


Janus

by Generouslyinnercheesecake



Series: Earth Destiny [4]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Bad Parent Talia al Ghul, Bisexual Dick Grayson, Children, Damian Wayne is Arabic, Damian Wayne is Batman, F/M, Gay Character, Gratuitous use of italics, Hispanic OFC, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, I’m sorry, Latino Jason Todd, Married Life, Mar’i Grayson is Nightstar, Minor Selina Kyle/Bruce Wayne, The League of Assassins (DCU), The major character death is Kori, Time Travel, bad language, lmao me, this gets dark
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-10-06
Packaged: 2020-06-26 19:43:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 45,348
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19775104
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Generouslyinnercheesecake/pseuds/Generouslyinnercheesecake
Summary: Mar’i Grayson was fifteen years old when she saw her future.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: All public characters, settings, etc. are not mine and are property of DC comics. I am not making money off of this work. All my original characters/plot are property of me, the author, and I am not associated with DC comics in any way, shape or form
> 
> Hello, everyone! I hope everyone has had an absolutely amazing day! <3 
> 
> Just wanted to say something before we begin:
> 
> This story contains Demonfire! I know the ship has been under heavy scrutiny for as long as it has existed, but I personally support it. I have also made Jason Latino, and another original male character of mine gay. If you do not support these decisions, I can respect that and this story is just not for you. I have another story named Mollify if you still like my writing but do not support my personal choices I made in this story. 
> 
> Anyways, done with THAT. I hope you enjoy the story. Please leave a comment and subscribe if you can!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the edited version of the first chapter. Please be aware that I made various changes (not only to proofread, but to also add little anecdotes to reference to future chapters/stories). Thank you for reading! <3

Mar’i had absolutely begged to be a part of Dick’s ‘family’ for years. She was six years old when she started asking about who her father grew up with.

At first, he was hesitant to say anything because Bruce Wayne was such a prominent figure in the public—she, or at least one of her school friends, would recognize the name—but he eventually gave into her pleas. 

Mar’i was seven when she was told about the deaths of her grandparents.

When she asked why Dick still called John and Mary his parents, he informed her that Bruce was only a legal guardian, and that Dick was only his ward.

Dick had rejected the idea and legality of Bruce being his adoptive parent.

Bruce had been slightly upset over it, secluding himself for a week and getting lost in his own thoughts before Dick tumbled back into that isolation and assured him that it was not his fault. Dick had always appreciated what Bruce did for him—the manor, the parent-figure, giving him the Robin position, but Dick’s heart would always lie with the circus and his parents.

Mar’i was eight years old when she met Dick’s partner and grandfather-figure.

Damian, from her first sight of him, was very angry-looking. He had an ugly scowl on his face, his dark green eyes burning with something she could easily read as envy. Of course, Alfred was polite and gentlemanly; he made sure to open the door for the young girl and offered water and/or other beverages.

“No thanks,” she replied with a blinding, charming smile. Damian stood behind Alfred, arms crossed and jaw clenched not-too-unlike his father. At least, that’s what Mar’i’s father told her of Bruce; he had informed him that Bruce was more familiar with seclusion than most. Mar’i inferred that that meant he was more stand-offish. 

Alfred nodded once, then looked up above her to greet Mar’i’s father. “Greetings, Master Dick. It’s quite relieving to see you again,” the old man said with a sad, distant look in his crinkled eyes.

Dick nodded, putting his hand on Alfred’s shoulder. “It’s great to see you too, Alf,” he replied with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. His smile lessened as he finally, truly looked at the man in front of him and began familiarizing himself with the manor, again. “How’s Tim?” 

Alfred just put his own hand over Dick’s hand which still lying on his shoulder. Dick sighed and dropped his hand.

Jovial look back on, he looked down at Mar’i again. “Why don’t you go meet Dami?” He suggested, although it left little room for argument due to his tone which was dripping exhaustion. 

Mar’i peered back at the boy behind Alfred, then switched her sight to her father again. “Okay!” She feigned her excitement, but knew that it was time that her father needed to talk to an old friend. _He seemed pretty serious. What’s wrong? Did something happen?_

Mar’i shook her head. No time for those thoughts. She had to meet a new friend! And maybe (even though he seemed super mean) he would be friendly when they started talking.

She floated up to him. Damian scrunched up his nose. “Hi!” Mar’i greeted. “My name’s Mar’i!”

She waited for him to say something, her smile waning as more time passed. 

_Anything_.

“What’s yours?” Mar’i finally asked after what seemed like forever.

He narrowed his eyes, as though she was a suspect in a murder case. “Why do you ask?” He questioned back.

She blinked. _What_.

“That’s...how you meet people,” Mar’i answered, unsure. Maybe he was just messing with her?

She waited for him to say his name, but he didn’t. Oh well, her dad already said his name was ‘Dami’. Although she didn’t exactly know if it was a nickname or a full name. Perhaps later he would tell her that. She could win him over...eventually. If he would stop being so stubborn. 

“Do you wanna play outside?” Mar’i asked Damian with a bright smile back on her face. The sun was the source of her people’s energy, so she has always played outside. Hating outdoors was simply not in her blood.

He (somehow) scowled harder. “I do not _play_. I am a trained warrior and am above those...activities,” his eyes flashed haughtily.

Mar’i huffed. _Eventually_. “Well I’m just trying to be nice,” she said, the frustration beginning to form in her chest.

He retracted slightly, then the arrogance washed over his face again. “I am now Robin. I have no intent to _play_ with such an insolent girl!” Damian exclaimed, face now red.

Mar’i opened her mouth to retort, but was interrupted by a light hand on her shoulder. She looked up from the hand to see Alfred standing there, prim as ever with an amused smile quirking on his lips. “Miss Mar’i,” he started, “I do hope we can take this to the living room. I have heard it’s quite calming there,” Alfred informed her.

Mar’i nodded, ashamed, then began following Alfred outside of the foyer and into the main living room. Damian huffed behind her, then she could faintly hear her father talking quietly to him. She had enhanced hearing, but didn’t want to listen in on their conversation. She trusted her dad...plus, he seemed sad about something. 

After Alfred finally led them to the main living room, Mar’i finally took in the grand decor around her. It seemed...homey. A fireplace was on the farthest wall from her, the walls a pumpkin orange. The couches were brown, earthy colors and lamps illuminated the room from the tops of end tables. The floor was a soft carpet beneath her, and the room smelled like lemon.

Alfred sighed after a moment. “I see you and Master Damian have not gone off on the right foot,” Alfred said sadly. Mar’i opened her mouth to apologize, but Alfred beat her to it. “There’s no need to apologize, Miss Mar’i,” he continued, “I just wish Master Damian would connect with more people his age.”

Mar’i flushed. She couldn’t identify why, so she kept her mouth shut.

Alfred simply raised an eyebrow, but changed the subject. “Would you like any snacks, Miss Mar’i?” The old man offered.

“Yes, please,” Mar’i replied, her head down and cheeks still red. She could feel her hair turning hot, so she tried to calm herself down. “Can you bring some strawberries please?”

Alfred nodded, then left the room with no word to her sudden mood change.

Mar’i looked back up at the comfy room, then began searching the bookcase near the corner. She skimmed the titles, looking for anything interesting, then she encountered a theoretical book based on space and time.

Mar’i tilted her head cutely. “Hm,” she huffed out, interested. Her mother had told her various stories of the stars, the galaxies seemingly endless, and the worlds beautiful and run by all kinds of exotic peoples. Kori was one of those people. Mar’i smiled sweetly when she recounted a specific story her mother had told her; it had been about a group of travelers that found a new world and how they won a battle against one of the most deadly manipulators of the universe. Kori, by the end of her story, smiled and advised Mar’i to never lose herself to horrible men, women, and non-binary beings by forgetting her true roots. The story, for some reason, had always stuck out for Mar’i in a way that the others hadn’t. 

Damian finally entered the room after she put the book back in the case, a softer expression on his face now. Her dad was nowhere to be seen. A minute passed in which Mar’i was wondering what to say next. It seemed like her dad talked to Dami, but she was still unsure on what Dami did.

“Are you okay?” Mar’i blurted out. Her own eyes widened, then she changed her expression to look at Dami expectantly. She thought, at first, that this was random, but remembered the words of her mother: to always be kind, compassionate. The people who bully are always the ones who are hurting the most, Kori had told her once.

Damian narrowed his eyes. “Of course. Why would you ask that?” He questioned back.

Mar’i sighed. _Sometimes Mom’s advice is so hard._ “I-“

Before she could say anything else, Alfred, with Dick behind him, appeared with a silver tray with her strawberries on it. The old man put the tray on the end table respectively. “Thank you, Mr. Alfred,” Mar’i said with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

“You’re quite welcome, Miss Mar’i. If you’ll excuse me, I need to attend to other matters,” Alfred replied, then disappeared into the main hallway.

Mar’i continued to gaze at the doorway, not wanting Alfred to leave quite yet. She had felt comfortable with the old man in a way she hadn’t felt comfortable with anyone else, including her mother.

Mar’i turned her gaze to her father. “What can we do here?” She asked. Dick looked down at her, which honestly wasn’t much. Mar’i was already tall for her age, almost surpassing Damian’s height.

Dick placed a smile on his face. “Well, we can go watch a movie in the movie theatre,” her dad suggested. Mar’i shook her head and scrunched up her nose, so Dick continued, “Or we can check out the gym...”

Mar’i’s eyes immediately lit up at the mention of a gym. “Really?” Dick nodded, obviously regretting his decision to say anything at all. A bright, genuine smile stretched across Mar’i’s face, however, and Dick forgot about his regret. “Oh, please?!”

Dick chuckled good-naturedly, then said, “Okay. Just remember what I said about formal training?”

Mar’i rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, frustrated at the reminder. “No formal training ‘til I’m fifteen,” she recounted with a bland tone. _Mom said twelve, though!_

Dick nodded sadly, but approvingly. He kneeled over and kissed her hairline sweetly. “It’s for your safety, dragă,” he reminded her.

Mar’i pouted. “But why does Dami get to be a hero?” She pointed at the boy accusingly. “Is it because he’s a boy?” Mar’i furrowed her brows and looked at her still-kneeling father.

Dick closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them again, the bright blue reflecting off her own alien green. “No, Mar’i,” Dick said sadly. “It’s because you’re my daughter and I don’t want anything to happen to you.” His eyes glazed over. “Not like what happened with Damian’s dad,” he muttered quietly to her...only for her to hear.

Mar’i’s eyes widened with sympathy and understanding. She seemed as though she wanted to say something, but didn’t know what. _The people who bully are always the ones who are hurting the most_. 

She turned her head to look at Damian, a frown on her face and her eyes lacking a fire behind them. Damian, seeing her expression, placed a scowl on his face. “What?” Damian asked bratily. 

Mar’i looked taken aback for a moment. She scrunched her nose up again, but ignored his previous tone because of his current situation. “What was your dad like?” She inquired.

Damian’s countenance darkened, his head bowing and his eyes narrowing. He clenched his jaw tightly, as though he refused to converse about the topic she had just asked about.

Dick winced when she had first asked the question, knowing Damian would have another blow-up. He could almost notice his bottom lip quivering the smallest amount, but he wouldn’t say anything about it. That was the last thing Damian wanted.

Damian opened his mouth, then closed it, still refusing to look at the small girl. Mar’i had simply stood her ground and been more than welcome for a response about Damian’s father. Damian, after another moment, _growled,_ and replied, “It’s none of your concern, you stupid girl!”

Mar’i sucked in a breath. She expected that answer yet hadn’t expected how much it would hurt her. _Be kind. Be compassionate, Mar’i. Like Mama said_. She huffed out a short breath. “I was just asking a question-“

“Well you ask the wrong questions,” Damian interrupted bluntly, his expression now as blank as a white canvas. 

Mar’i blinked, the anger bubbling in her chest. _Sorry, Mama, but I’m not putting up with this_ bull _!_ “Sorry if I made you sad, but you’re just mean now,” she said angrily. Mar’i could hear her father sigh behind her, but she didn’t pay it much attention. 

“I am Damian Al Ghul Wayne! I feel nothing, you insolent girl!” Damian yelled.

Mar’i’s red face twisted, whether that be with confusion or frustration, Dick couldn’t tell. “You’re so mean!” She yelled back, the fire behind her eyes returning.

“Guys!” Dick finally interrupted their quarrel, his arms raised and his eyes desperate. “C’mon. Try to get along!” The distress in his tone almost made Mar’i stop glaring at Damian. _Never forget your roots, Mar’i._

“No, Grayson,” Damian insisted. “Your absolutely horrid daughter does not deserve my respect. If anything, she should bow down to me!” Damian refused to look up at his partner, not wanting to face the disappointment on the man’s face. 

Mar’i, briefly forgetting about her father’s presence, flashed her eyes dangerously. She could feel her hair beginning to turn hot. “I refuse to bow to you, you-“ Mar’i fumbled on her words, unable to come up with any appropriate and original name, “you meanie!”

Her hair was now fully on fire.

Damian rolled his eyes and narrowed his eyes. “- _tt_ -“

Mar’i immediately launched her body onto Damian’s, making the elder boy topple over. Dick, who thought the fight would die down at one point, strode over to the two children and pulled them apart. The two attempted to claw at one another, but Dick pushed them apart more and more until they were on separate ends of the couch.

Dick looked down at Mar’i, whose shoulder he still had a hand on. “No!” He said firmly. “Don’t do that again, Mar’i!” Dick disapproved. Mar’i pouted and looked down at the white carpet, her arms crossed.

Damian smirked arrogantly when his peer got the blame first, but it was wiped off his face when Dick turned to him. “And Dami, you can’t antagonize everyone!” Dick reasserted.

Damian looked down with a scowl.

- _CLANG_ -

The group of three looked up and into the hallway, where the source of the noise came from. 

“What was that?” Mar’i inquired aloud. Damian somehow managed to scowl harder.

“I dunno,” Dick muttered to himself. “Let me check up on it,” he stated before walking over to the doorway.

“I will go with you,” Damian added quickly.

“No,” Dick replied firmly. “Stay. Please,” His desperation leaked through his voice.

Damian stared at the man for a moment, then backed down.

Dick sighed, then went out into the hallway. He came upon some broken shard of a lightbulb, the lampshade rolled over to the other side of the hallway. Dick furrowed his brows and looked at the broken pieces.

_No blood_.

It looked as though someone just knocked it over. Dick peered up and down the hallway. Alfred was nowhere to be seen, so Dick jogged down the hallway away from the living room.

After reaching the library, Alfred appeared from what seemed like nowhere. “Hey, Alf,” Dick greeted again. “Have you seen anyone else here? Someone knocked over the lamp and left it there,” Dick told him.

Alfred nodded wisely, a subtle smirk on his face for some reason. “My apologies, Master Dick,” Alfred replied regretfully. “My old age shines sometimes, and it was my fault. I was just on my way to find a broom and pan, sir,” the old man assured Dick, lifting said supplies, which were in his wrinkled hands, to show Dick.

Dick’s shoulder’s sagged. “I’m sorry, Alf,” he groaned. “I’ve been so paranoid since Bruce-“ Dick paused, then huffed out a humorless breath. “Let me help you with picking that up,” Dick stated, holding out his hands for the broom and pan.

Alfred shook his head slowly. “There’s no need, Master Dick.” Then he paused his movements, his eyes glazed over and not quite looking at Dick. His eyes turned amused, loving and it seemed as though they held a secret that only he himself knew. “You should attempt to get Master Damian and Miss Mar’i along better. Perhaps they have more common interests than you believe,” Alfred told Dick.

Dick only nodded, confused as to what he was missing. _Alfred will always be an enigma_. Dick winced. _Not very good wording. Puzzle? Challenge?-_

Dick’s thoughts were interrupted by Alfred walking past him.

* * *

Time passed—A year.

Mar’i’s mother, Starfire, got killed in a battle. Died fighting for herself and her family. Mar’i had secluded herself for weeks, only allowing Dick to see her every once in a while.

Dick had felt like he was floating, lost in space with no air yet still able to breath and walk like any other person. He had to run with heavy legs and take deep breaths, fighting the urge within to give into his own thoughts. Had to fight for his own sake, so he could fight for his daughter.

Mar’i had told him that she wished she was with Kori. When she said that, his breath caught in his throat and he almost felt like he was completely lost in space forever. He couldn’t let her out of his sight for weeks.

A part of him was broken because of Kori’s death; as was a part of Mar’i. Those parts of them will always be.

Damian had slowly softened with Mar’i, Dick had noticed. He had softened in a way that he hadn’t softened with anyone else his age. Not with Jon or Colin or Maps. That had started after Kori’s death.

When Mar’i had reached age 13, Damian had a time where he stopped speaking to her completely. It had only lasted a couple of weeks, but it came out of nowhere and left Mar’i devastated. She had tried to talk to him, but he had just avoided her at all costs. The young preteen had felt more lonely than usual without a familiar constant in her life. At least, someone that was in her age range—Dick had attempted to fill that space, but those tries fell short by her insistence that he wasn’t Dami. 

She still didn’t know why Dami ignored her for that period of time. 

Those couple of weeks passed, though, and Damian had simply asked her to spar with him as a way of an apology. Mar’i had grinned so hard her cheeks hurt.

They sparred for almost four hours.

One more year passed, and Dick announced that he wanted to get married to Barbara Gordon. Mar’i cried when she first heard it. She didn’t know if it was from happiness or sadness, but she was feeling something either way.

Mar’i knew her dad had a few flings over her lifetime: a few women and a couple of men. He’s been dating Miss Gordon for a few months, and known her longer than Mar’i’s been alive.

Barbara is not her mom, but she is a good woman. So Mar’i doesn’t call her ‘Mom’ or ‘Mama’ and respects her father’s happiness.

It’s, really, the least she could do for him after all he’s done for her.

A few more months pass, and Mar’i wants to learn Arabic. Damian just raised an eyebrow and asked why she wanted to know it. She had said that she wanted to know exactly what Damian was always muttering angrily to himself.

Damian rolled his eyes, but nodded. Mar’i, more than enthusiastic, pulled him into a lip-lock. 

He immediately froze and his eyes widened; she herself had her eyes closed from her own experience. Mar’i pulled away after a few seconds, and tilted her head cutely when she saw Damian’s shocked expression.

It was only after she had explained that she could learn languages by lip-contact, that she realized that that was probably Damian’s first kiss.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I’m back! Please remember to comment (especially constructive criticism)—it’s really appreciated! Also, please subscribe if you can! I hope everyone has an amazing day and please enjoy the chapter <3

Mar’i was vibrating with excitement. Her father was finally taking her out for the first time this week. Well, it’s only been three days since she’s patrolled Blüdhaven, but it’d felt like a week. For her, at least.

Dami was over. Dick had invited him over and suggested they all patrol together and bond like ‘old times’. Mar’i had kinda missed those times, but that was when she didn’t know everyone else in the family: Steph, Cass, Babs, and Tim. She had known Jason a couple of years before because her mother was good friends with him. On a team with him, apparently.

Everyone in the family, including Bruce, was nice to her. They all welcomed her with open arms and did things for her. Things she wouldn’t have been able to do if she was still in hiding.

Dami wanted to patrol with Batman at all times, but didn’t oppose patrolling with his first true partner and his daughter. They hit the streets pretty early (8 o’clock) and stopped a few small muggings and robberies.

Blüdhaven crime wasn’t as bad as Gotham’s—well, _nothing_ was, and so the night was mostly easy. Damian and Mar’i sometimes called each other names, but they always did that as a way of teasing each other. Dick had learned to only stop it if they started attacking each other—which wasn’t often.

Mar’i was always being followed by her father. Dick had been paranoid ever since Mar’i’s mother died in battle, so Mar’i was constantly fighting with her father breathing down her shoulder. Not that she wasn’t paranoid herself, but she wanted some sort of independence—like how Dami had when he was almost half her age.

Speaking of, Damian was full focused with whatever conversation was going on on his comm..

“What’s going on?” Mar’i asked. Her own comm. was only connected to her father’s, but her father’s was connected to everyone else’s. Her dad was currently taking down a rapist on the alley below them.

Dami looked back up at her and put up his hand in a way of silencing her. Nightstar huffed frustratedly.

Nightwing suddenly sprung up from the alleyway, a smile on his face. The smile dropped when he saw Damian focused on his comm., however. Dick turned on his own comm. and listened for a few moments, leaving the rooftop completely silent, almost eerie.

Apparently the talking stopped, because Damian finally began talking. “Should we go to Gotham and help?” He asked without batting an eye in Mar’i’s direction.

Dick sighed, then nodded. “Yeah,” he replied. “I think we do.”

Mar’i’s ears perked up. If they went to Gotham, this would be the first time she would patrol in Gotham... _period_. And it seemed like this was a big fight, if her dad’s hesitance was anything to go by.

“Perfect!” Mar’i exclaimed.

“No.”

“Oh come on!” Mar’i hissed. “I’ve been patrolling with you for months! Plus, everyone else would be there incase I got hurt!”

“You’re still too young, Nightstar!” Dick reminded her with gritted teeth.

Mar’i didn’t back down.

“I’m always going to be too young, aren’t I?!” She snapped.

Dick opened his mouth, but stopped himself from saying anything. The man put his head in hands and sighed quietly to himself. Damian simply stood off to the side, looking almost bored. This argument happened almost every week since Mar’i had started patrolling, and this tune was becoming repetitive and annoying. Mar’i had proven herself fully capable multiple times, and her father was just being overprotective.

Just as Mar’i was about to make another retort, Damian stepped into the argument. “We need to start going if we want to make it,” he told them, annoyed.

They two Graysons turned their heads to look at him.

“I’m going.”

“No.”

“Let’s go, Dami.”

“Names, Nightstar!” Damian barked.

Mar’i rolled her eyes good-naturedly, then floated her way to Robin. Nightwing twitched. “Nightstar,” he started.

“Dad,” Mar’i interrupted him. “I’m not a child. I’m going to fight for my family, just like how you fight for me,” she declared with a raised chin.

Dick stopped. The next thing he did would prove his trust in Mar’i, and the young woman was obviously going to go against his wishes if he proved his distrust in her. Mar’i could tell he was doubting himself, but she could only hope that his paranoia would lose. A full minute passed before he visibly relented. His shoulders dropped and his head lowered, almost as if were disappointed in his own decision.

“Fine,” he relented. Mar’i’s mouth immediately stretched into a grin. “ _But_ ,” he continued, “you have to stay by me at all times.”

The grin didn’t drop from her face. “Okay,” she replied. “I promise.” She could barely contain her own excitement.

Dick, however, seemed to age a bit in front of her eyes. “Good. Thank you.”

Robin sighed. “We need to head out,” he told them again, his arms crossed and against his chest.

Nightwing nodded once at Nightstar, who then sighed tiredly. She supposed this came with the job, but that didn’t mean she liked it.

* * *

When they landed, Nightstar shook her arms out. “You guys are getting heavy,” she muttered.

Robin scoffed, while Nightwing continued moving forward to get sight of the fight. There seemed to be about thirty assassins against Red Robin, Spoiler, Batman, Black Bat, and (surprisingly) Red Hood.

Mar’i gaped at the sight for a moment. No wonder they had called for backup.

“Let’s go!” She exclaimed before leaping into the air.

“Wait!” Nightwing yelled, stopping her suddenly. She huffed and looked at him expectantly. “What’s rule number three?” He questioned.

Mar’i closed her eyes, trying to regain control of her emotions. “Don’t jump into fights without a plan,” she recited, just then realizing how stupid she was acting. _Wow, Mar’i. Now you’re acting so dumb you’re starting to annoy yourself!_

Nightwing nodded approvingly. “Good. What’s our plan, then?” He asked.

Mar’i looked back at the scene. The heroes were surrounded by about twenty ninja, the other eight or so fighting directly with the heroes. The best way to defeat was to go from the outside in. Create a pathway, almost.

“Surround them,” Mar’i stated.

Nightwing nodded and smiled. “Excellent. Let’s head out,” he said. “Remember-“

“Stay by your side the entire time,” Mar’i repeated. “Yes: I remember!”

Nightwing smiled reassuredly, then the three of them all grappled to the rooftop where the rest of the heroes were fighting (save for Mar’i, who was flying). When they landed on the rooftop, a few assassins immediately launched themselves towards the heroes. Mar’i delivered a hard blow to the stomach and kneed the ninja’s chin, knocking him back. She shifted her attention to another coming her way, whom attempted to drop-kick her. Mar’i yelped and used her starbolt to knock it backwards. A sword clattered to the concrete.

Mar’i could see in her peripherals that her father and Robin were taking care of themselves.

Suddenly, she felt the hairs at the back of her neck straighten, so she turned around. A ninja held their sword above their head, running towards her. Nightstar aimed a starbolt at the ninja’s wrist, then ran forward to kick their knees. The assassin was immediately paralyzed with pain and bent forward.

Mar’i winced sympathetically; she could admit herself, that looked incredibly painful.

A few more minutes passed when only eight or so ninja were left. The match was finally even.

The eight heroes all collided with the eight ninja in a symphony of violence. Before they could finish them off, however, they heard a slam then felt a pull in their chests and saw a blinding white light.

One of the ninja snickered grossly when they all landed ungracefully after the sequence of events finished. Red Hood knocked the ninja out with a hard punch to the head. The heroes, after shaking away the disorientation, were able to take out the rest of the seven ninja without much trouble.

Nightwing, panting and still a bit disoriented, looked at Batman. “Why were they here?” He inquired.

Batman stilled. “I still need to figure that out,” he stated, face blank as ever.

Steph looked around at the rooftop, confusion evident on her face. “Um, guys?” She said, getting their attention. Everyone snapped their heads to her. She sighed. She would never get used to that. “Where’d the rest of the ninja go?” She posed, pointing to the mostly cleared rooftop, save for the eight unconscious bodies.

“What the _hell_ ,” Tim muttered to himself. Everyone else seemed just as baffled.

Jason, however was occupied with the actual layout of the city. “This isn’t Gotham,” he stated bluntly, grabbing everyone’s attention.

Damian raised an eyebrow. “Of course this is Gotham, you imbecile,” he refuted.

Red Hood shook his head. “No. This _isn’t Gotham_. Look,” he started, “that billboard wasn’t there. That building was called somethin’ else. That street name is different. It should be called-“

Batman interrupted him before he could say anything. “Reconviene at the cave. Ten minutes,” he ordered before grappling away.

Red Hood grumbled while Black Bat joined Spoiler and Red Robin in speculation of what could be going on. Mar’i herself was thinking. No doubt her father was terrified for her safety, but at least she was by his side. Plus, as long as she had Damian, she believed they could get out of anything. Despite the constant teasing and taunting, they worked well together. No doubt, if it were only Damian and Mar’i on this ‘trip’, they could find some way out. People—especially Bruce and Dick—underestimated both her and Damian...

Suddenly, she felt a heavy hand on her shoulder. She jumped up, but heard a familiar voice behind her. “We should start heading to the cave, Starshine,” she heard her dad say quietly. Mar’i nodded, then turned around to hug her dad. He, of course, welcomed it with open arms and kissed her hairline. “It’s gonna be alright, dragă,” he reassured her.

She took a deep breath, then nodded again, head still in his chest. “Does this happen a lot?” She mumbled into his chest, the question muffled and distorted, since it was spoken against muscle and cloth.

Dick furrowed his brows. “What?” He almost laughed.

“I said,” she started before poking her head out of his chest, “does this kinda stuff happen a lot?” She asked.

Dick didn’t want to lie, but he also didn’t want to worry her. If he said yes, she would start to worry silently (so much like her parents), but if he said no, she would eventually find out and some more trust would be broken.

When Dick finally came to a conclusion, he sighed. “No,” he said sadly. “But things like this have happened before. And we’ve survived all of those things,” he tried to reassure her.

She worried her lip for a bit, before nodding once and muttering, “We should start actually heading to the cave.” Dick nodded. “Is it okay if I fly on my own?” Mar’i asked hopefully.

Dick sighed. “Fine,” he complied. He knew better than anyone else that in times of peril, Mar’i needed time to herself in order to process everything. If she didn’t have that time, she would eventually have a meltdown. “You know your way, right? And your comm.’s on too, right?”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Good,” he said. “Don’t try to pull too much attention to yourself.” He hesitated before saying, “Batman usually doesn’t like metas in ‘his’ city.” Dick made sure to use air quotes in order to ease the tension.

Mar’i rolled her eyes, but nodded anyways. “Okay. See you then.”

Nightwing watched her fly away, a sad smile on his face.

* * *

Batman was the first to arrive at the cave, of course. He could hear two distinct voices, one a Hispanic accent while the other a regular upper-class Gotham accent, teasing one another. The voices were echoed, so he could deduce they were on the opposite side of the cave.

When he observed them, they seemed fairly young. A bit younger than Damian and Mar’i, but older than 10. They were sparring, obviously skilled and have been trained for years.

They both had smiles on their faces.

Bruce’s steps were silent, unnoticeable, but still got the kid’s attentions. The girl’s smile lessened a bit, confusion washing over her face. “Hola. Why are you home so early?” She inquired. The girl looked behind Bruce. “Where’s A’ma?” She hesitated.

Bruce narrowed his eyes, trying to evaluate the girl’s true intentions. From what he’s seen of her, she’s perfectly fine; but his hunches have not _always_ been correct. The girl and boy glanced at each other, worries beginning to form in their heads simultaneously.

“Did-did something happen with A’ma again?” The boy asked tentatively.

The girl audibly sucked in a breath, shifting her attention back to Batman. Bruce turned his Batglare fully on, trying to pull more answers from these people.

The girl suddenly blinked, her stare cutting through Bruce. “You’re not Dad,” she declared before looking back at her friend. The boy’s face alighted with realization.

They only nodded to one another before the girl ran upstairs and the boy got into a fighting stance.

Suddenly, Bruce’s thoughts began tripping over themselves. Memories of time travel and paradoxes. He had a few books on it in his living room. Completely theoretical, but not entirely false. A different rooftop, different people, a different _city_ -

“What year is it?” He croaked out.

The young boy immediately froze. His stance did not drop, however. “ _What_?”

“I said,” Bruce declared before taking a step forward, making the boy take a step backward, “what year is it?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! I’m here w/ chapter 3! I’m finally caught up with posting, so chapter 4 will come in the next few days. There’s a couple of f-bombs dropped in this chapter, so I’m sorry if you don’t like that type of stuff.

When Mar’i arrived at the cave, she noticed a...few...things.

One being that Bruce was about to fight a child.

Another was that the child looked very, very familiar. Specifically his eyes. That shade of blue seemed so familiar, but she couldn’t quite place where she saw it.

Another thing she noticed was that the boy was absolutely shocked by something Bruce had said. She hadn’t heard what they said to one another before she arrived, but she could only guess it was...shocking?

Mar’i shook her head, trying to clear her head. Whatever was going on, she hoped Dad and Damian were coming quick. Mar’i flew over to the two figures. “Um,” she started, looking at the boy with blue eyes, “what’s going on?”

Bruce didn’t break his gaze from the boy. When Mar’i glanced haphazardly at Bruce, she noted he was almost...nervous? But she couldn’t be quite sure. Mar’i’s never seen him like this.

“I believe we got sucked into a time anomo-“ Bruce started before being interrupted.

“Mar?!” The boy yelped.

Mar’i jumped up. _What_.

“What did you just call me?” She asked him, utterly baffled. The boy furrowed his dark brows, staring at her for a few moments. Mar’i began to squirm under his stare. “What the _hell_ -“ she muttered to herself.

“No cursing,” Bruce reminded Mar’i. Mar’i rolled her eyes. Bruce always had to say that to everyone, even the _adults_ —then they heard another yelp.

“Oh my _god_ ,” the boy mumbled to himself, beginning to pace. His mind was obviously working haywire if his muttering to himself was anything to go by. “Are you-?” The question hung for a moment, directed towards Bruce.

“Actually!” He exclaimed suddenly, making Mar’i jump again. Of course, Bruce made no involuntary movement. “Never mind. That could totally mess up the space time continuum. Not cool. Not _cool_ -“ The boy began his muttering and pacing again.

Mar’i heard a group talking behind and could hear it was Cass, Tim, and Steph just arriving. The boy’s eyes widened, almost as if he could recognize the voices, then he tilted his body to look behind Bruce.

The boy, after seeing Tim and Steph’s appearing figures, _screamed_. The group of three immediately ran over to see what was wrong, but only saw a very nervous and panicky boy.

Mar’i examined the boy, concerned. “A-are you okay?” She questioned him.

The boy simply blinked.

“Where the _fuck_ is Ata?” He questioned her back.

Steph furrowed her brows. “ _Who_ the fuck is Ata?” She added.

“What year is it?” Bruce repeated. Everyone in the cave stared at him, including the boy. Mar’i could hear Tim muttered quietly to himself—the mad genius that he is.

“It’s 2034,” the boy replied tightly. Everyone let out a simultaneous, surprised breath.

Just as he said it, they heard more steps coming from the cave entrance. Mar’i hoped to god it was her dad and Damian that were just arriving. Thankfully, when they walked into the light, it was those two along with Jason.

The boy began tapping his foot quickly on the floor, anxiousness showing. Suddenly, they heard quick and urgent steps coming down the cave stairs—most likely from the manor. They could faintly hear someone explaining something to another person in Spanish, but it was quiet. Jason listened carefully, trying to pull anything he could from the conversation.

However, nothing.

When the two figures reached the bottom of the stairs, they both froze. The girl, they could guess, was because she saw all the new arrivals; and the older woman because this was nothing she was expecting.

Dick, who was looking closely at the older woman, took note of her ruffled appearance. She was obviously busy when the little girl called her. Had sweatpants and a loose white t-shirt on, but her tan, almost orange skin was what made her stand out.

Most of all, her bright green, alien eyes.

“Mar’i?” Dick inquired, shocked.

The woman opened her mouth to say something, but apparently changed her mind. She turned to the children. “They’re from another time. Maybe another universe. It’s okay,” she assured them. The woman looked back up at them. “What year was it for you?”

“2012,” Batman graveled out.

The woman nodded a few times, a blank look in her alien eyes. “Oh...okay,” she replied.

An awkward moment of silence hung in the air.

“Are you Ata?” Cass asked the little girl.

The girl’s eyes widened, then she looked up at the woman. The woman nodded in a motherly way, so the girl replied, “Yes.”

“Cool,” Steph commented. “Your...friend? He was asking where the fuck you were, so...” Steph trailed off, not wanting to make the situation any more awkward.

The woman looked down at the boy, who flinched. Before the woman could say anything, however, the girl cleared her throat. The woman looked down at her. “¿Que pasa?” She asked, concerned.

“Necesitamos llamar padre,” Ata replied.

Jason narrowed his eyes suspiciously. This woman was Mar’i, no doubt, but who was the father of this little girl? _Hm_.

Bruce, himself, was thinking of the father of this girl. She was a Spanish speaker, so possibly Jason. But they had little to no resemblance. Also, it looked as though future Mar’i served as her mother. Perhaps the father is someone they are unaware of? But the girl said herself, her dad is the Batman. Bruce wouldn’t pass down the suit to some random man.

Dick perked up when he heard the Spanish word for ‘dad’. “Does Jason finally settle down?” He asked hopefully.

Ata looked into the little crowd the past heroes had made, then slowly shook her head with a slight smile on her face. Obviously amused.

The woman just rolled her eyes and moved past the group and to the computer. She began typing out some codes, then hit enter. She turned around to look at the past group, then typed some more codes in and hit enter. Mar’i sighed a breath of relief when she saw a code displayed on the vast monitor. The only other noise was Ata and the boy quietly talking in Spanish.

“Are you married?” Bruce suddenly asked.

The future Mar’i froze, then nodded slowly. “Ye-es,” she replied hesitantly.

Dick audibly sucked in a breath. “ _Wait_ -“

“It’s okay, Dad,” the future Mar’i said softly.

Past Mar’i gasped. “So you...you’re really me?” She asked, then paused. “Or, am I really you? Oh my _god_!” Past Mar’i exclaimed.

Just as Future Mar’i was about to reply, they heard an almost silent thrum of an engine arriving. The mother perked up and told the whole group—including the future children, “Stay here,” she stopped, then added, “please.”

Future Mar’i quickly flew over to the Batmobile and began talking to whomever was in it. It obviously had two people in it, if her shifts in dialect were anything to go by.

Past Mar’i huffed when the older version of herself flew away. No _way_ was she going to just ignore the fact that she was possibly talking to her future husband.

Mar’i focused on enhancing her hearing.

“...an alternate timeline?” She could faintly hear her future self asking.

There was a pause, then, “I think they’re from our timeline, my love.”

_Future husband. Wow. He sounded h-_

“How do you know, Dami?”

_What. Wait- No, Hold on-_

“Remember the first time you patrolled in Gotham in 2012? We later woke up in the cave with no memory on how we got there.”

“Yeah, but anything could’ve happened...”

_This is not happening_

“Father-“ past Mar’i winced, “detected a temporal anomaly in the time when we were missing. Barbara attempted to research it further by hacking the cave footage, but was met with no evidence of what had happened that day.”

She saw her future self retract from the window of the Batmobile and look at them. Past Mar’i attempted to feign innocence and looked towards the other side of the cave completely.

Future Mar’i sighed and looked back into the open window. She looked past her husband to talk to another figure in the passenger seat. “How was patrol? Are you okay?” Future Mar’i prodded, attempting to change the subject.

Past Mar’i couldn’t make out what the other person was saying, at all, so she just gave up. Besides, she figured out all she needed to know.

Eventually, future Mar’i made her way back with a trailing Batman and a...Batgirl? The suit looked a bit darker, but it still had that same basic design. Batman was, of course, a little darker in skin tone. Now that Mar’i really examined, Batgirl was pretty dark too.

“Good news!” Future Mar’i exclaimed, getting everyone’s attention. “We know you’re not from an alternate dimension!”

“How reassuring,” Damian snidely commented.

Future Mar’i ignored his comment. “But—bad news—we don’t know how to get you back to your time...”

The eight time travelers all looked at one another, scared and unsure.

“We need to know how you got here,” the future Batman stated bluntly.

Cass stepped up. “I saw a...a,” she fumbled on her words, not remembering the word. She made a box figure with her fingers, attempting to convey her words.

“Device,” Jason said for her. “I saw it too. Some ninja was holdin’ it. Then they pressed a button,” Jason continued.

“Yes!” Cass declared. “Then a white light.” She made a blow-up motion with her hands.

The future inhabitants nodded. “Were they from the League?” Future Mar’i questioned.

The past Batman nodded once. No words were needed. The future Batman sighed, then turned to Batgirl behind him. The whole group could hear him order something in Arabic, then the girl reluctantly left for the showers.

Dick rose his eyebrows. “ _Arabic_?” He mouthed quietly to himself.

“Wayne Enterprises has been experimenting with some medicine that alters one’s memory. It would make that being forget about a certain period of time based on the potency,” the future Batman began explaining before being interrupted by his partner.

“What he means to say,” future Mar’i pointedly looked at Batman with a teasing smile, “is that we have a pill that can be taken to forget about this time period while we pull together how we can you back. Meaning-“

“That you could tell us anything and we would forget about it as soon as we took that pill,” Tim finished.

“Yes,” the future Batman said. Future Mar’i just nodded, the smile still on her face.

“Are you positive this is viable medicine?” Bruce questioned.

“Yeah,” future Mar’i replied. “They’ve been working on it since-“ she quickly corrected herself, “I mean, for over seven years. The medicine has been tested and proven to work,” she assured them.

Everyone let this sink in.

“I’m all good with it,” Steph said.

“Me too,” Cass added. “They are genuine,” she added.

Eventually, everyone agreed to the medicine. The future Batman nodded. “Good,” he stated, then took off his cowl.

The man revealed to be dark skinned with green eyes and dark hair. His jawline was strong, developed and his nose was fairly wide yet straight. Obviously future Damian.

Cass smirked to herself. She knew, of course. Everything about the man screamed Damian: how he spoke, how he held himself up, how he looked at Mar’i. Cass was surprised Bruce wasn’t able to make the connection.

Bruce clenched his jaw. Why hadn’t he thought that Damian and Mar’i would marry? They clearly had an infatuation with one another that was vaguely similar to the one between him and Selina.

The man murmured something in Arabic to his wife, then left for the showers. Future Mar’i turned to the past group. “I’m pretty sure you all have questions?” She inquired aloud.

Everyone nodded, shocked—save for Cass.

“Well.” Mar’i took a deep breath. “Go ahead.”

“Was that Damian?” Jason asked her instantly. Mar’i just nodded.

“Are you married to Damian?” Dick seemed to blurt out.

Future Mar’i obviously hesitated with her answer, but replied, “Yes.” The room burst into an orchestra of questions. “Hold on!” She ordered, quieting everyone. “Things are different in the future!”

“Really? We couldn’t tell,” Damian said sarcastically, his face red.

“Me and Dami-“ Mar’i started before being interrupted by a familiar voice.

“Mar?” The boy caught her attention. Said boy was behind the whole crowd of past heroes, consoling another, smaller little boy. “Ry had a nightmare.”

Future Mar’i immediately stopped her explaining and walked past the group, kneeling in front of the little boy—apparently named Ry. She began stroking his dark hair down. “What happened, baby?” She gently asked.

Ry frowned and scrunched his nose up cutely. “It was about you and Daddy being hurt again!” He pouted.

Mar’i kissed the little boy’s tan cheek. “It’s alright, dragă. It was just a dream,” she consoled him.

Ry hugged her mid-section in response. Everyone else cooed at the scene, except for the other boy and Ata. They just looked at each other and rolled their eyes.

“Where’s Daddy?” Ry innocently asked Mar’i.

Mar’i replied in something in Arabic, making the boy nod in her chest. The girl from before—the girl in the Batgirl costume—then came out, raising her eyebrows when she saw her mother hugging her little brother. “What happened now?” She asked exasperatedly.

The boy peeked his head up from his mother’s chest, then stuck his tongue out at his sister. “None of your business, A’ma,” the boy muttered before going back into his mother’s chest.

Dick blinked. _How is this happening?_ He has at least one grandchild, and maybe two other. Many doctors had said that it would be incredibly difficult for Mar’i to carry a child full term, but here they were. Obviously, one of them had been adopted, but the other two...it was no doubt they looked like a beautiful combination of Damian and Mar’i.

“This-this can’t be real,” past Mar’i finally said. All of the future inhabitants turned their heads to her, including Ry. “I...I mean,” she started hesitantly, “I can’t have kids. The doctors said so...” Mar’i trailed off, not knowing what else to say. Her own mind was working in overdrive, trying to make excuses on who these children were. Maybe they were adopted? They had to be; this couldn’t be Mar’i’s future. But the more that Mar’i observed, the more she fell in love with her future.

“This has to be an alternate universe,” Damian declared, pointedly ignoring both of the Mar’is. The young man was embarrassed, but—most of all—scared. This had to be some alternate universe, or his mother had to be dead by the time his children came into the world. No way would Damian subject his own blood to his mother’s torture—she had always upheld the ideaology that being with any alien blood flowing within them were poisonous. Her xnenophobic behavior towards aliens made Damian distressed about cultivating any relationship between himself and Mar’i, resulting in the two weeks in which he had attempted to distance himself from the girl. Somehow, his own mother always managed to pull him away from potential relationships without even being near him.

“This is your universe,” future Damian rebutted, entering the cave with new clothes and wet hair. “Some evidence from your time shows.”

“Oh?” Jason asked, curious.

“We had the same incident with the League. I presume it was Mar’i’s first time patrolling in Gotham?” Future Damian asked the whole group.

Dick, Mar’i, and Damian all nodded.

“There was a time period when we—all eight of us—blacked out. We didn’t know how, but we ended up in the cave, with no knowledge on if we beat the bad guys or how we got there,” Mar’i informed them.

“Barbara attempted to hack the cave footage, but was unable to find anything,” future Damian added.

Tim furrowed his brows. “How?”

“It was completely wiped. No trace was found, and we could guess it was a skilled hacker that was able to do that,” Damian told Tim, looking at him pointedly when he mentioned a skilled hacker.

A’ma looked at her mother. “May I be excused?” She asked her.

Future Mar’i nodded and got up from consoling her son. She moved beside Ry to kiss her daughter’s hairline. “Noapte buna,” she whispered. A’ma looked at her father, smiled, then strode upstairs into the manor.

Future Mar’i turned her head and scrutinized Ata and her friend. “You two need showers and bed,” she said sternly.

Ata sighed. “Okay. I’ll shower upstairs,” she complied with a slight smile.

“I’ll shower upstairs too,” the boy copied.

Mar’i nodded before kissing Ata’s hairline and whispering the same phrase as before. Ata smiled widely and bumped her hips into her friend’s. “No kiss for Charlie?” She teased lovingly.

Charlie rolled his eyes, then began dragging Ata upstairs with a slight flush to his face.

Mar’i snorted, then turned around to gaze at her husband. They seemed to communicate with no words, with only a slight upturn of the brow and a shake of the head.

“Oh my god! They’re doing the _thing_ ,” Stephanie gushed with a grin.

Damian furrowed his brows angrily. “What are you talking about, Brown?” He questioned.

“The thing where couples can talk without talking,” Jason interrupted them, staring oddly at the married couple.

“That makes no sense-“

Bruce interrupted Damian. “You’ll understand when you’re older.” He paused. “Literally,” he added.

Jason and Steph began laughing. Past Mar’i sucked in a breath. He _would_ understand, but with _her._ The more she thought about the future, the less she understood how she got there. That, however, didn’t mean that she didn’t like it so far.

Apparently future Mar’i and Damian’s silent conversation was over because Damian began moving over to his son. The man talked with his son in Arabic, while future Mar’i cleared her throat in order to get the whole group’s attention.

“I’m so, _so_ sorry, but you all are going to have to sleep down here,” she informed them apologetically. Everyone visibly retracted. Mar’i bit her lip. “It’s only because we can’t have anyone in our time figuring out that you all are here!” She told them. “We usually have a few non-Batclan guests come every few days,” Mar’i added.

“Where can we sleep?” Jason asked her frustratedly.

Future Mar’i tensed. “We have the cots, and a couple of air matresses upstairs,” she stated. Everyone groaned. “I know, I’m so sorry—but this is protecting you guys,” she apologized.

By this time, Damian was finished talking with Ry, who looked slightly distressed and was clinging onto his father. Damian stood up and held Ry closer to him in order for the boy not to fall out of his hands. Ry rested his head on his father’s bicep, then closed his eyes soundly.

Future Damian, without any thought, evenly walked upstairs with Ry still on his shoulder sleeping soundly.

Future Mar’i looked up at her husband, who was still walking upstairs. “Dami, can you...?” She lilted quietly, not wanting to wake up her son.

Damian turned around and nodded softly, then continued upstairs. Mar’i looked away from her husband and said, “Steph, Cass, Mar’i, and Damian can sleep on the air mattresses. The rest need to sleep on the cots.”

Dick sighed. He had expected that, but that didn’t mean he liked how much of a backache the cots always gave him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you enjoy it? Make sure to leave a comment and subscribe please! <3 I hope you all have an amazing day!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ¡Hola, chicos! Just wanted to say that I am not perfect with the Spanish language. I am familiar, but not bilingual. So if you see any grammatical errors, please tell me so I can fix them! <3

Damian awoke when he heard two men talking quietly in the cave. He blinked his eyes open and looked around. In the cave, nothing could indicate the time of day—save for a clock, but there wasn’t one near.

Damian pulled his chest upward, his back instantly aching after being against the almost completely deflated air mattress for the entire night. But still, he hadn’t had a good few hours in a long time. Dick had ordered that he and Mar’i lay feet-to-head, so after Damian finally sat up properly and saw Mar’i’s head, he instantly noticed her bed-head. Her black hair was an absolute rat’s nest, angling in different directions. Damian was surprised she wasn’t choking herself in her sleep, from the way her own hair was wrapping around her neck.

When he heard steps, Damian snapped his head in the direction of the noise, then immediately got up.

A man with bright green eyes entered the room, a man, presumably his father, trailing behind him with a crooked smile. Damian paused. He had seen that smile too many times.

“Richard?”

The man—Dick—smiled brighter and said, “Hi, Dami!”

_Some things really don’t change_.

The Romani man really hadn’t changed much, save for the few grey hairs he had developed over the years. His hands were more experienced and calloused; they faced more challenges. His face held ghosts of some wrinkles, which only lied on the crinkles of his eyes.

The green-eyed man looked between the two black-haired males and smirked. “Think we should take this out to the cave,” he hinted.

Damian grumbled. “The others are probably awake by now anyway,” he stated.

“Oh, I know,” the man teased. “Good morning, everyone!” He waved before leaving the side room into the main part of the cave. Some of the others greeted him back, but the majority of them grumbled back. The man suddenly popped his head back into the room, grasping the door frame. “Also,” he started, “we brought some coffee slash tea,” he finished and turned back around, the small smirk still on his face.

Damian rolled his eyes and followed the men into the main part of the cave. There, they were once again talking animatedly. Damian went over to the table that held the coffee and searched for some teabags. Fortunately, he was able to find some, so he began heating up a cup of water with the coffee machine. Not the perfect alternative, but it still works.

The others began slowly working their way into the main anatomy of the cave—Dick, Steph, Cass, Jason, Bruce, then Tim.

“Where’s Mar’i?” Future Dick inquired, looking around.

“She’s still asleep,” Tim said simply, shrugging and gulping down his black coffee.

The green-eyed man hummed and smirked ( _again_ ). “Maybe you should go wake her up, Damian,” he suggested slyly. A twinkle shone in his eyes, making everyone think he was doing this for the sake of teasing Damian.

Damian narrowed his eyes and put down his paper cup which held his tea. “Fine,” he complied with a glare. This man—whoever he was— was beginning to _tease_ Damian, and the boy was absolutely not going to give into what this man thought he would do.

Damian marched over to the side room, all while Jason was trying to hold in his laughter. When the young man disappeared behind the door frame, Jason and Steph simultaneously broke into laughter, the unnamed future man joining in soon after.

“Dios mío,” Jason gasped, trying to not drop his cup. “That was fuckin’ hilarious.”

The unnamed man just smiled charmingly. “Hm. Ever since I found out you guys arrived, I wanted to think of any way to make little Damian and Mar uncomfortable,” he admitted teasingly.

Tim snorted. “It’s gonna be hard to make Mar’i uncomfortable,” he told him.

The unnamed man rolled his eyes. “Pft. You guys just don’t know how,” he declared with a smile. “I grew up with her! I know all the things that make her squirm,” he said offhandedly. Cass narrowed her dark eyes at the comment. _I grew up with her._

Eventually, Damian marched back out with a sleepy and blushing Mar’i. “Sorry,” she apologized with an awkward smile.

Jason chuckled a bit more and took a sip of his tea. When he finished his sip, he told her, “Princess. Your hair.” He didn’t point at her for the sake of Alfred.

Mar’i blushed harder, still under their stares, and shook her hair out. Her hair instantly untangled and now laid flat against her shoulders and back. “...wish I could do that,” everyone heard Steph mutter.

Mar’i bit her lip and went over to the table to make some tea. Past Dick cleared his throat and held up a cup of tea for her. She smiled gratefully and took the cup from him.

“Where are your Damian and Mar’i?” Bruce finally asked the two future men.

“Mar’i had to go to work, and Dami went to W.E.,” future Dick informed them. “Also, this is my son, John,” he introduced him offhandedly.

Past Dick, however, choked on his own coffee. Cass giggled. _Knew it_ , she thought with a smirk.

John snorted. “My mom is Babs, incase anyone was wondering. Although I’m pretty sure you two are married in your time,” he stated, his own mind wandering off.

“We are,” past Dick said gently. “When were you born?” He asked John, his voice horse from choking on his beverage.

John snapped out of his stupor. “February 24th, 2013. Why?” He prodded gently. Dick ignored him and was obviously thinking of something. “You know what?” John began again, disgusted. “Never mind.” Tim snorted.

“The kids should be coming down soon,” future Dick began. “It’s 9 o’clock, by the way,” he added absentmindedly.

Tim’s eyes widened momentarily, before he deflated. He didn’t have a job in this time, and so he didn’t have to be up and ready to work constantly. He hoped that he didn’t get used to that by the time they got back to their time.

Just as Dick said, they heard quiet footsteps coming down the cave stairs. Mar’i turned her head to see the same four kids coming down the steps. Ata was talking with Ry in both English and Arabic, while A’ma just appeared tired. Charlie was leading the other three kids down the stairs.

“Grandpa Dick!” Ry yelled excitedly, ignoring what Ata had just asked him. The little boy ran down the rest of the stairs and tumbled into his grandpa’s body. Dick only chuckled and hugged Ry.

Charlie immediately detoured to the coffee table, while A’ma went to make some tea. Ata greeted John. “Hey, tío John,” she said with a smile.

John smiled back. “Hey, Atalaya. How’s it going?”

“Good! Are Mom and Dad gone?”

John sighed. “Yeah, they had to go to work, so we had to watch the animals,” he teased with a smirk and a head tilt to the travelers. Atalaya huffed a laugh, while Damian just rolled his eyes arrogantly at the small jab. “Absolutely wild, they are,” he added, amused.

Ry finally broke himself from his grandpa’s embrace and began talking animatedly in Romani.

Charlie walked back to Atalaya’s side with a fully caffeinated drink in his hand and A’ma by his side. “Good morning, Grandpa Dick,” A’ma greeted with an amused smile in Ry’s direction.

“‘Morning, guys,” Dick grinned at them before returning back to the one-sided conversation with Ry.

Tim looked directly at Charlie. “Who _are_ you?” He inquired aloud. It might have seemed impolite to anyone else, but Charlie just snorted, as if this happened to him all the time. Which, in all honestly, it did.

“My name’s Charlie,” the boy said bluntly in a manner not-too-unlike Tim’s.

“Sí, but who’re your parents, chico?” Jason questioned the young man. “Mar’i and Damian?” He added as an afterthought.

Charlie looked at Ata amusedly, as though it was an inside joke, and looked directly at Tim. “No,” he said funnily. “I’m your kid.”

Tim blinked for a full three seconds. “ _What_.”

“I’m your kid,” Charlie restated with a laugh, obviously amused by his father’s shock.

“I-“ Tim cut himself off and stared blankly at the floor, his eyes blank. “I am _so_ sorry for making fun of you, Damian,” he apologized, still looking at the floor, horrified.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Charlie started with a wide, mischievous smile, “I wasn’t planned.”

Tim visibly flinched, his gaze with the floor breaking. “Who’s your-“

“Stephanie,” Charlie interrupted him before he could finish his question.

Stephanie gasped and spilled some of her coffee on herself. “Shit,” she uttered quietly to herself while scrubbing the coffee with some cheap napkins. Charlie snorted. “I kinda suspected, but didn’t wanna say anything,” Stephanie admitted offhandedly. Tim turned his attention to her with a beatrayed countenance, but Steph shrugged and continued reviving her clothing.

Stephanie frowned. She felt _bad._ Bad that she birthed this beautiful boy in front of her and raised him herself, but not the little girl she birthed in her own childhood. Steph shook her head. There’s no need—it was only a part of her past. She just wishes her first pregnancy was under better circumstances.

John looked at A’ma and Ata. “Why don’t you guys introduce yourselves?” He suggested casually, leaning back in the computer controls.

Ry was still talking animatedly with his grandpa, who was more than happy to listen.

A’ma sighed into her tea and took a deep gulp, looking pointedly at Atalaya. Ata clenched her jaw in annoyance and muttered something under her breath. She eventually turned around to face the whole past group.

Stephanie was, of course, still trying to scrub the coffee out of the clothing. Besides, the clothing wasn’t even hers! Damian and Mar’i had given all eight of them some hand-me-downs so they didn’t have to keep sweating in their hero uniforms.

“My name is Atalaya Grayson-Wayne,” the girl started, but was interrupted by Jason.

“Wait, wait, wait. Are you seriously saying they hyphen their names?” Jason asked with a baffled expression on his face. A’ma nodded into her cup, then Jason burst into laughter. “Oh-oh, my...this keeps getting better and better!” He gasped out.

Mar’i was turning a bright red, whether that be from frustration or embarrassment, her future kids couldn’t quite tell. But they knew one thing: she would blow up sooner or later.

“I’m thirteen years old, and I’m training to be the next Spoiler,” Ata finished quickly. Stephanie slowed down her scrubbing. She didn’t think she would give anyone else the suit/name, but she guesses things changed a _lot_ in these past few years. She has a _kid._

Tim looked directly at her, obviously in thought. “You were adopted, right?” He questioned suddenly.

Ata seemed taken aback. She hadn’t heard that question in years, even when she was in public interviews. “Um, yes,” she replied hesitantly.

Tim hesitated on his next question. “Do you know who your biological parents were?”

Ata stopped.

“Well,” she started quietly, “yeah. I knew my mom. She...died in a bank robbery when I was seven. My dad left when I was six,” Ata explained tentatively. Tim visibly retracted, disappointed in himself. “It’s fine, though. You guys said you knew her,” Ata assured him.

Tim looked back up at her, brows furrowed. Ata’s mouth twitched. Charlie and him looked so alike when they did that. “Who?” Tim asked gently.

Ata pursed her lips, trying to control her emotions. She hadn’t said her name in years. “Um-Zendaya Alvarez. But her maiden name was Acosta. Plus, most people called her Zay,” Ata said sadly.

Steph stopped her scrubbing and gasped loudly. “Are you serious?” She breathed out, tossing the torn-up napkins on the table. Ata nodded her head slowly, looking at the ground. _This is why I’m giving her the Spoiler mantle._

Suddenly, Atalaya felt someone pulling her in for a tight hug. She looked up to see Stephanie with a sad smile on her face. “Why are you hugging me?” Atalaya asked in a small voice.

“Because I knew your mom. So did Tim and Cass. She’s _so_ nice. And smart,” Steph giggled a bit. “She found out my identity when she was seven years old. And we didn’t even know each other,” Steph admitted with no shame. “I’m glad we found you,” Steph whispered sadly.

Ata nodded lazily into her chest, and sighed quietly. Steph suddenly pulled away from the hug, holding Ata at arms length. “I have so many stories of Zay,” she said. “After we first met on a bus, she would always call out for Red Robin, Spoiler, and Batgirl/Black Bat just to talk to us,” Steph told her with a small smile. “When she got older, she would bring out some homemade Mexican cuisine, and she was the _best_ cook.”

Ata felt a smile bloom on her face. “Yeah. She would make the best pozole,” Ata gushed.

Steph grinned and nodded. “Yeah! She would always bring that out and ask if we wanted any cabbage on it. Tim would always say yeah, the rabbit that he is,” Steph commented as an afterthought.

“I am not a rabbit!” Tim detested.

“Oh whatever, Boy Bl-“

“Anyways!” Future Dick clapped, getting everyone’s attention. Cass simply blinked and directed her attention to A’ma, who was still gulping down her tea.

When all eyes were suddenly directed at her, she finished her sip and held her cup to her chest. “My name is A’mandine Grayson-Wayne. I am fourteen years old and am Batgirl,” she introduced herself. Her eyes didn’t lie on the past group, but instead on the floor in front of her, almost as if she were scared of looking up.

Cass raised an eyebrow when A’ma introduced herself. _Where did this sudden shyness come from?_ Damian had seemed so sure of himself, and Mar’i was a confident woman. No—this wasn’t shyness, this was a lack of trust. _A defensive stance, pursed lips_. It seemed as though A’ma distrusted her own family.

A’ma, after finishing her short introduction, turned to her little brother. Ry smiled brightly and turned confidently to the entire group. “My name’s Ry’an and I’m seven!” He said happily.

Past Dick couldn’t contain his smile when his future grandson introduced himself. _He was just so damn cute_.

Suddenly, they heard heavy footfalls coming down the cave stairs, accompanied by one other set of quieter, more calculated steps. Dick looked up to the stairs and smirked. He then looked back down at the group of eight and mouthed, “Be prepared.”

The whole group glanced at one another, confused and curious. Atalaya’s face broke into a wider grin when she noticed the man at the top of the stairs. Soon enough, the two figures came into the light.

The older man had charming blue eyes paired with black hair and a straight nose. Wrinkles came and went on his face—evidence of stress and heartache—and his black hair held the occasional grey hairs.

The younger man had black hair with a grey streak in the middle of his forehead man, along with dark green eyes. His face was mostly rid of wrinkles and the only indicator of old age was the crinkles around his eyes.

Cass’ eyes widened. That, she didn’t expect. “Bruce? Jason?” Cass hesitated.

The two older men peered in her direction. “Hey Cassie,” Jason greeted with a knowing smile.

“Hello, Cassandra,” Bruce said with a smirk. Cass blinks, then smiles back. Tim stared at the future version of Bruce—on the old man’s left ring finger lie a golden band. Tim blinked, breaking his stare. _That_ , he didn’t expect.

Future Jay turned around suddenly and smiled at Atalaya. “Hola, chica. ¿Estás bien?” Jason asked her.

Atalaya nodded with a wide smile. “Sí.”

Before they could actually start a conversation, Dick interrupted them. “Wait, wait, wait!” He exclaimed. “Did you two actually come down together?” He wondered. The two future men nodded, which made Dick smile widely. “Does this mean you guys actually start getting along in the future?” He asked eagerly.

Both future and past Jasons rolled their eyes before future Jason said, “Yeah, yeah, Dickhead. It’s nunya business anyway.”

“Did Grandpa Bruce and Uncle Jay not get along?” Ry’an inquired with furrowed brows.

Future Bruce grimaced. “Some people don’t always get along, Ry’an,” he stated bluntly.

Ry’an looked taken aback, but didn’t refute it. “Oh,” he said, “okay.” He continued, “What changed?”

Bruce put on a small smile, “You four,” he replied simply. Ry’an nodded back wisely, making future Jason chuckle.

“I’m guessing Pennyworth is...?” Damian proposed gently—at least, for him. Future Dick frowned, but nodded anyways.

Future Jason stared at the floor. “He...died happy,” he said with finality. “Plus, even though he didn’t put much in his will, we were able to...fulfill all of the requests.” Jason quirked his eyebrow in Charlie’s direction, causing past Bruce to narrow his eyes. _What did Charlie have to do with Alfred?_

A long pause ensued, when even Ry’an was quiet.

Past Bruce was the first to break it. “When will Mar’i and Damian be done?”

“Mar’i’s last appointment finishes at 3, and Damian should be done at about 5:30,” John replied.

“What do we do in the meantime?” Steph asked eagerly. “I say we play 20 Questions, but my version!” She suggested jovially. Everyone in her time period groaned.

“Blondie, the last time we played 20 Questions on patrol, one of us ended up with a stab wound,” past Jason reminded her with a pained face.

Future Jason snorted. “I remember that day.”

Past Jason continued. “Plus, your version of 20 Questions is just asking people questions about themselves. It has _nothing_ to do with the actual game, Blondie!” He called her out with a slight upturn of his lips.

Steph rolled her eyes. “The stabbing was a one-time thing. And stop calling me Blondie, asshole,” the woman bit out. Past Jason just smirked. Stephanie continued with a winning smile, “It would be a good way for us to get to know each other!”

“Before we forget everything about this time,” Tim finished for her. Steph turned to glare at him.

“Life ruin-er,” Steph muttered.

John shrugged. “I’m in.”

Ry’an, after his dear uncle declared he was going to play, exclaimed, “I wanna do it!” Eventually, everyone else agreed to it—including past Bruce (although it took a little coercing). Future Dick, Bruce, and Jason all excused themselves upstairs to the manor.

They all ended up sitting in a circle, facing the center. John started, “So, Damian,” the boy’s head snapped towards him. “Do you have a crush on Mar’i?”

“Fuck _off_ ,” Damian replied immediately. John looked taken aback for a second, then burst into laughter. Atalaya and Charlie weren’t too far behind him.

“Damian,” Bruce growled as a warning. It only made John laugh harder, and soon Jason, Steph, Cass, and Tim joined in.

“You are almost as obnoxious as Todd,” John heard Damian mutter under his breath.

“Thanks,” John replied with the same smirk as before.

“Let’s get to the actual questions!” Stephanie yelled over the whole group’s overlapping yipping. She turned her torso to John. “Do you have a girlfriend?” Steph inquired bluntly.

John’s face once again broke out into bouts of laughter. Ry’an was giggling along with him at his side. “No, Steph. I don’t have a girlfriend,” John gasped out. “Although I do have a boyfriend, if that’s what you’re wondering...”

Steph closed her eyes briefly, embarrassed with herself. “Shit. I’m so sorry,” she said, visibly cringing.

John, now done with his laughing, just smiled charmingly and replied, “It’s alright.”

Steph pulled at the tips of her hair, a nervous tic she’d developed over the last few years, and turned to Charlie. “Where are your parents? Or—where are _we_?” Stephanie furrowed her brows. “This is confusing,” she stated, staring off into space.

Charlie huffed a laugh. “My parents are on a vacation right now,” he informed her. “Mom said Dad was being too focused on the company, so he needed an escape. Mar’i volunteered to watch over me to while you guys,” Charlie made a face, “relax,” he finished.

Steph nodded slowly. So it did look like Tim actually listens to her in the future, and not his stupid, erratic brain. Maybe with Charlie, they began to understand each other better? Steph shook her head. No time for those thoughts. She needed to crack open the personalities of these kids...and John.

Dick during this time took the opportunity to ask A’ma a question. “How’s it having Damian and Mar’i as parents?” He asked kindly.

A’ma features softened. “They’re really patient and caring. Both of them,” she informed him simply. Though her audible answer held a very simple answer, her expressions and body language told a whole story. Her previously tense shoulders relaxed greatly, and an easy smile graced her lips, Cass noted. A’ma’s eyes went directly to Dick’s during her statement, taking his breath away. He hadn’t noticed how green her eyes were before, but maybe that was because she was looking at the ground.

Dick smiled back softly. “Good.”

Tim cleared his throat suddenly, surprising everyone. No one had suspected that he would want to play in their game. Tim narrowed his eyes and glared at everyone pointedly. “Yes. I actually wanna ask something. Sue me,” he muttered angrily. “Actually, don’t,” he added jokingly.

Charlie outright laughed. “Oh my god!” He exclaimed, choking on his own laughter.

Atalaya furrowed her brows for a moment before recollection suddenly dawned on her face. “Oh! I just remembered,” she gasped out. Everyone looked at her expectantly, seeing as Charlie wasn’t fit for any talking. “Tim said that exact...thing before leaving for France,” Atalaya explained to all of them.

Charlie’s laughing died down. “Things really don’t change, huh?” He joked with Ata, playfully shoving her with his shoulder. She just shoved him back.

“Anyways,” Tim interrupted them, making heads snap to him again. “Are we good parents?” He inquired, looking nervously at Charlie.

Charlie paused his teasing with his friend. “Um. Yeah, I would say that,” Charlie hesitated. “I mean,” he started again, making both Tim and Steph tense up, “sometimes I feel like you guys don’t have the most consistent parenting, but I guess that’s what happens when you have very different parents.” Charlie’s attempt at an excuse didn’t make Tim’s muscles any less strained.

“O-kay,” Jason broke the silence after Charlie’s admission. “My turn.” He turned to little Ry’an, who instantly smiled at him. “What do you want to be when you grow up, chico?” He asked the little boy.

The little boy paused and gave his answer obvious thought. “A police officer,” he blurted out.

Jason whistled. “Damn, Dick. El joven really looks up to you, huh?”

Ry’an scrunched up his nose. “Nuh-uh,” he insisted. “I will be a police officer because you can help people.” The boy had an easy, dreamy smile back on his face.

Dick smiled back at the boy, while Jason shrugged. Jason then turned to A’ma. “You’re the oldest, right?” Jason asked, making A’ma nod once. Jason continued, “How old are you?”

“Fourteen,” she answered easily. Jason clicked his tongue in thanks, obviously in thought. “Why?” A’ma inquired.

“Just wanted to know when your parents had you,” Jason replied off-handedly.

A’ma furrowed her brows. “My mom was 23,” she said bluntly. “They weren’t married when I came along,” she added as an afterthought.

Dick’s eyes widened. “What?!” He yelled.

A’ma looked taken aback. “Well, I think they were together for over seven years before they had me,” A’ma told them nervously.

Dick sighed and put his head in his hands.

“O-kay,” Steph drawled awkwardly. She turned to Atalaya. “What’s your favorite childhood memory with your biological mom?” Steph asked.

Atalaya pursed her lips. “Hm,” she thought. “Probably when she took me to the local fair—it was just the two of us,” Ata admitted. “We stayed there until it closed at midnight. We got some funnel cake before we left,” Atalaya added with a nostalgic smile.

Steph grinned. “Cool.”

Tim, who was sitting next to her, turned to Ata as well. “Are you and Charlie best friends?” He asked her.

Atalaya and Charlie looked at each other, smiled, then simultaneously nodded. “Cool,” Tim replied awkwardly.

Charlie graced him with a crooked smile while Ata just shrugged.

Dick turned to his future son. “Are you a hero?” He asked John.

“Yeah,” John said simply, “I’m Nightwing since I live in Blüdhaven.”

“Is that why you weren’t here yesterday?” Stephanie asked suddenly. John nodded in response.

Jason, ignoring the other people talking, began talking to Atalaya in Spanish. “ _What did your mama make you while you were growing up, mija?_ ”

Atalaya’s face tensed as she thought. “ _Pozole, enchiladas, tamales, conchas, arroz con leche_ ,” Atalaya listed off.

“ _What was your favorite?_ ” Jason asked her.

“ _Pozole. Sin duda_ ,” Atalaya replied instantly.

“Hm,” Jason thought out in English. “ _I really like conchas, pero lo que sea_ ,” the hero lip’s upturned when he thought of his favorite sweet bread.

Charlie huffed out a breath, grabbing Jason’s attention. “What?”

Charlie smiled at the man. “ _Ahora quiero una concha_ ,” the boy said simply. Jason opened his mouth once, then closed it. Jason smirked. El joven probably learned Spanish because of Atalaya. _Cute._

All while this was happening, Dick asked Ry’an another question. “Exactly how many languages do you know?”

Ry’an furrowed his brows. “Well, I know English, Arabic, Romani, Spanish, and a little Tamaranean,” the boy responded with some braggadocio.

Dick grinned widely when he heard everything. _So my grandchildren are really smart. That’s nice_. “That’s really good, Ry,” Dick praised the young boy, who only seemed to absorb the compliment with an identical smile. “Do A’ma and Atalaya know those languages too?” He inquired further.

Ry’an tilted his head, the said, “A’ma knows those languages too! I think she’s learning Russian next,” the boy added with pride. “But Atalaya only knows English, Spanish, and some Arabic,” Ry’an finished with a frown. “It is because she grew up speaking Spanish only and didn’t know any other languages before we adopted her,” Ry’an explained.

Dick bobbed his head with every sentence Ry’an was saying, making sure to listen with rapt attention.

A’ma suddenly interrupted them. “I’m learning German, Ry,” she corrected the boy, who just rolled his eyes in response. By this time, Jason and Atalaya were done with their own conversation.

“I have one last question,” Tim stated suddenly. Everyone turned their heads to him, making him squirm uncomfortably. “What’re your pet peeves, A’ma?”

A’ma raised a single black eyebrow. “People who chew loud,” she seemingly hesitated before saying this, “also, the smell of keys,” she trailed off. “Really, anything metal,” A’ma corrected herself, not looking directly at anyone. John, Charlie, and Atalaya’s expressions softened. A’ma blinked sporadically. “Just—do not like it,” A’ma restated quietly, unable to form any more sentences. She clenched her jaw, obviously frustrated with herself.

Mar’i’s own expression softened when she noticed her future daughter’s inner turmoil. Whatever was bothering her, Mar’i could only hope that she and Damian would be there for A’ma.

John, after a moment of silence trailing A’ma confession, cleared his throat. “It’s almost 1 o’clock,” he stated. “Anyone want lunch?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you like the chapter? Remember to leave a comment if ya can <3 I hope you all have an amazing day!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my goodness hello! I apologize that this took so long, but I had bad writer’s block with this one. It was just this chapter I was stuck on, so while I was supposed to be writing this chapter I had written so many other parts of other chapters. So expect the next few chapters to come out pretty quickly. Anyway, I hope you all enjoy the chapter!

John promised to bring down some sandwiches for lunch before he walked up to the manor, A’ma and Ry’an trailing behind him to help. The ten people occupied themselves by touring the cave, Atalaya and Charlie explaining each new object to them with a specific story.

It wasn’t long before John and A’ma came down with a plateful of sandwiches and cookies, future Mar’i just in front of them. “Hey, Mar!” Charlie greeted all the way across the vast cave.

Mar’i looked up at the sound of her name, then gave a winning smile. “Hey, Charlie,” she greeted him. “Touring the cave?”

“Yeah. We are explaining all the new things,” Atalaya yelled across the cave. Mar’i chuckled before going to mini fridge in the cave and grabbing a few waters. She placed them on the metal table they had used for the coffee and tea that morning.

John was carrying all the sandwiches on a couple of plates. “Come back down if you still want lunch!” He yelled out.

Charlie and Atalaya began easily talking in Spanish while the group of eight followed them down to the lower floor where John, A’ma, and Mar’i were. Damian hung out to examine his old Robin suit—one which he was wearing only yesterday. Everything felt so foreign yet so familiar.

“C’mon, Dami,” Mar’i whispered to him, as though it were a secret. Damian opened his mouth to make a retort, but stopped himself. There was no need.

Damian, after another lingering moment, began walking downstairs to eat his lunch. When he arrived at the small table, he met A’ma’s eyes. They were, of course, his own eye color, and he was almost visibly taken aback by how much they genuinely looked alike.

A’ma, after a moment of Damian staring at her, smiled crookedly and this time Damian’s eyes widened. _That smile_....

He had seen it on Mar’i so many times before. More than he could count. It always gave him pleasure when Mar’i smiled because of him.

And now his daughter was smiling at him like that. And that small part of his brain knew that Mar’i and him were meant to be. Damian shut out that part of his brain, and instead grabbed himself his lunch.

“You’re home early,” Ata told her mom, but it was more of a question.

Mar’i sighed. “Yeah. Missus Jackson cancelled her appointment because her ‘dog is sick’,” Mar’i explained, not at all convinced by her patient’s lie. That same patient cancelled often during hypo-manic episodes, despite Mar’i telling her to do otherwise.

Atalaya listened patiently. “Doesn’t she always cancel?” She asked innocently.

Mar’i nodded but didn’t say anything otherwise.

* * *

When lunch was over, the two groups reconvened.

“What are we going to do about the device?” Bruce questioned Mar’i.

Mar’i sighed, then pulled up a file on last night’s report. “Batman and Batgirl both saw League assassins last night carrying a suspicious device last night during the end of their patrol. But they couldn’t tell exactly what it was. The ninja went into hiding before Dami could do anything, but they were still suspicious,” future Mar’i explained.

“They had to have known about what device they were handling,” Tim insisted. “This had to be some plan by the League.”

Bruce furrowed his brows. “What was their motive? They won’t do something if it has no personal gains,” he thought out loud.

A’ma gasped behind them, making everyone turn their heads. “¿Que pasa?” Jason hesitated.

A’ma took a deep breath, then said, “She wants to kill Mar’i.”

Past Mar’i’s eyes widened. “Why the hell would she want to kill me?!” She demanded.

Damian rubbed his forehead, stressed. As soon as A’ma mentioned Mar’i, the pieces clicked into place for him. “My mother is xenophobic, and dislikes any association with alien beings,” he admitted, not looking directly at anyone. “She wants to kill Mar’i to kill any association I have with her in this time period.”

Dick grimaced. He knew many people who were xenophobic in their own ways—school bullies who’d call him a dirty circus rat—but Talia had apparently decided to turn her beliefs into actions. “Why bring her here?” Dick inquired.

A’ma, Atalaya, John, Charlie, and future Mar’i all glanced at each other. John cleared his throat. “She brought her here because past attempt didn’t work,” he explained quietly.

Bruce narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Explain,” he ordered.

A’ma opened her mouth once, then promptly closed it. She looked at her mother pointedly. Mar’i’s eyes went downward, but she elaborated. “She made an attempt on one of us a few years ago.”

Damian furrowed his brows. “Who did she kill?” He demanded.

Charlie straightened out his back and shook his head. “No. None of us got killed, but she tried to.”

Stephanie muttered, “Holy crap.” She took a deep breath, then asked, “How does this relate to now?”

Mar’i cleared her throat, similar to how John did. “Because she wants to kill past me so she won’t even have a chance to fail.”

A’ma’s whole face was taut, Cass noted.

Past Mar’i was confused. Why would someone be so adamant on killing her, even if she were the ‘improper mate’ for Dami? Talia must have really scarred someone in the family. Although, she’s already done that with most Batclan members. Mar’i doubted the woman would be able to do anything considering how many people have Mar’i’s back. Yes, Talia had an army, but Mar’i had an overprotective family. “How do we find her?” Mar’i inquired.

John sighed. “Her ninja are probably going to patrol tonight to look for you. What we should do is track their last known location and her closest hideout,” John explained. “One group can patrol the city while the other retrieves the device.”

Past Mar’i nodded enthusiastically. “Simple!” She exclaimed.

“You’d be surprised how much they escape our grasp, Princessa,” Jason muttered, crossing his arms. Mar’i pouted.

“I need to talk to Mom to track down the closest hideout,” John began, then turned to A’ma. “Do you remember where they dropped off?”

“Yes,” the girl responded. “I was somewhere near Hamilton and 13th.” John nodded in response, and excused himself to talk to his mother.

“We should form the teams,” Cass said suddenly, causing everyone to turn their heads to her. “I call A’ma,” she finished with a smile.

A’ma straightened her back and turned to her mother with a hopeful expression. Mar’i, after a moment of deliberation, nodded and couldn’t help but grin at her daughter. The mother eventually turned back to the rest of the group. “We should form a few teams,” she mentioned.

“The stealth people should go in first,” Steph stated. Tim turned his head and raised a single eyebrow. “What?”

Tim used air quotes when he said: “Stealth people.”

Bruce pointedly ignored them. “Teams aren’t necessary for this mission. We just need information,” he declared. Stephanie huffed annoyedly.

“Then we can have Bruce, Cass, future Damian, Tim, and A’ma go,” Dick suggested simply, shrugging his shoulders. “If backup is needed, we can have the rest of us dispatch.”

Future Mar’i seemed to mull over this for a moment, then nodded her head in agreement. “Sounds good!”

John jogged back from where he was just talking with his mother. “Mom should be coming over soon with a flash drive of all the League hideouts. She said, and I quote,” he rolled his eyes, “‘I don’t trust you all enough to give you directions and _not_ have a reasonable voice in your ear.’”

Future Mar’i furrowed her brows. “Hey! What about me?” She exclaimed.

John bit his lip to stop himself from smirking. “Mom did mention that only sometimes you are the voice of reason,” John elaborated.

Mar’i huffed good-naturedly, then checked the time on the computer. “Dami should be coming home soon,” she mentioned. “Said he could miss the last meeting of the day.”

A few seconds later they heard footsteps coming down the cave stairs. “Speak of the devil,” Charlie muttered, causing Ata to elbow him in the stomach.

Damian arrived at the bottom of the stairs, a tired countenance on his face. “Hello,” he greeted shortly, moving straight for his wife. He kissed Mar’i on her cheek chastely. “How was work?” He asked kindly, glancing at the opened file on the computer.

Mar’i smiled but shrugged. “It was okay. Missus Jackson cancelled again.”

Damian hummed knowingly. “Another episode?” He suggested.

Mar’i pursed her lips sadly. “Pretty sure,” she confirmed.

Past Mar’i observed their back-and-forth, something tickling the back of her mind. Something felt _wrong_. She didn’t know if it was the good or bad kind of wrong, but it felt taunting otherwise. Mar’i was fully aware that Damian and her had some romantic tension between each other, but she couldn’t have guessed that they end up with this future.

_It feels wrong_.

To examine their futures and compare it to their nows. _It feels wrong_ because Damian and her had only started something. Their friendship had lasted for years (much longer than everyone had originally thought it would) and he had helped her through various hardships. To put the relationship in another light—a romantic light.. _.it feels wrong._

But not the bad wrong. A good wrong—a concept she hadn’t encountered since her father had announced his engagement to Barbara.

Mar’i’s last crush was on a Latin boy in her grade. When she attempted to make a move and was only met with absolutely failure, Damian was there to pick her up. His snarky comments about the boy he hadn’t even met in passing made her laugh. He made sure to remind Mar’i of her true self-worth. Had said it was much more than what a teenage boy could provide for her.

It was then that Mar’i finally understood how he truly loved someone. It was also then that she fully realized that Damian loved _her_ ; whether that be in a platonic sense or romantic one. She didn’t think he was fully aware of his own actions or feelings, but she didn’t want to invoke that stress upon Dami.

_Too late_.

The way the future version of Damian looked at Mar’i...there was no doubt of his love. Past Damian had not encountered many happy couples in his life, but this _felt_ like one. It _felt_ domestic and homey.

And that just wouldn’t work for the young man.

The behaviors exhibited by the entire family would be suspicious if it wasn’t led by himself. They felt too cheery—especially for himself. Damian couldn’t trust that.

Correction: Damian couldn’t let himself trust that.

Future Mar’i turned to Ata and Charlie, who were currently talking in Spanish quietly. “Why don’t you guys keep touring the cave?” Mar’i suggested, interrupting their conversation. It wasn’t too important anyways—they were talking about next year’s classes.

Atalaya nodded. “Okay!” She turned to the group of eight. “¡Vamos! I want to show you all the hammer Harley gave to us,” Ata said as she led the seven people up the stairs to the cave’s second floor. Charlie, John, and A’ma trailed the group, while Bruce remained in his spot.

“I assume you would like to help with the case?” Future Damian asked his father. Bruce quirked an eyebrow and tilted his head, as if to say, ‘Duh.’

“Barbara should be coming over soon,” Mar’i told Damian. “I’m guessing she’s bringing Dad over too,” she added. Damian nodded once, then turned back to the file on the computer.

“We need to find out where the device is,” Damian murmured, typing in the file. “They most likely passed it onto another group in Gotham to throw us off their trail.”

Mar’i agreed, “Okay.”

Bruce interjected, “They’re planning to have younger Mar’i be there when we attempt to take back that device.” His insinuation didn’t go over the couple’s head.

Damian stopped his typing. “Mar’i is not going to be left behind,” he declared. “If she were, she would eventually escape the cave and fight them herself.”

Mar’i nodded her head. “I know me—I would fight otherwise,” she explained patiently.

Bruce continued, “Mar’i is in immense danger. Especially if she goes into the field. She’s newly trained—her first patrol in Gotham resulted in this.” His distrust of her was not blindly ignored of Mar’i.

“Excuse me?” She glared. Bruce, _of course_ , didn’t relent. “I was trained by Nightwing, Starfire, and Red Hood. Some of the most skilled heroes in the business.” Mar’i felt a heavy hand on her back, then retracted a bit. “Don’t disrespect me like that again,” she asserted.

Bruce narrowed his eyes, but Mar’i herself didn’t back down. Mar’i opened her mouth again, but before she could get any words out, they heard a familiar hum of Babs’ wheelchair. She had come from the elevator, and next to her was her husband.

“Did we just enter a lion’s den?” Barbara retorted, glancing up at both Mar’i and Bruce.

Damian closed his eyes for a moment, then muttered, “No.”

“Good,” the redhead commented before wheeling over to the computer. Even at the age of 58, she still held a young air around her. Her fiery hair was as vivid as ever, only featuring a few small grey hairs (though she usually plucked them out). Though the use of her legs was prohibited, she still remained fit and lively.

Barbara pulled out a flash drive and plugged it in. “Hamilton and 13th, right?” She asked for confirmation from Damian.

“Yes.”

Barbara acknowledged by nodded and typing quickly. After another moment of typing, she pulled up a file on a warehouse a few blocks down from Hamilton and 13th. Barbara fixed her glasses quickly, then turned to the other four people. “They have a warehouse on Grant and 15th,” she stated.

“Does is have any weapons?” Dick inquired.

Babs huffed shortly. “Probably. Red Robin only encountered it once, and no one in the League was even there,” she elaborated.

“Explosives or firearms?” Bruce asked shortly.

Barbara peered back up at the vast screen. “Explosives, most likely,” she said, making Mar’i sag her shoulders. “Another hideout near Chinatown mostly contains firearms,” she explained. Barbara looked pointedly at the other couple. “Will A’ma be okay?” Damian hesitated at his mother-in-law’s question.

“No.”

“Yes.”

Mar’i whipped her head towards her husband. “She’s more than capable,” Mar’i defended. “A’ma’s been through plenty of simulations and she’s reacted fine.” The woman decidedly kept her voice quiet as to not grab the attention of any past members.

Damian clenched his jaw. “We already have plenty of fighters. It’s not necessary right now,” He refuted, his patience waning.

“Damian,” Dick said gently. “A’ma is important to the team. She needs to know that she is,” he stated.

“Plus,” Babs interjected, “she’s a person with knowledge of the future. New street names, warehouse numbers. If you want this to be an actual raid, then I suggest three teams.” When she was met with confused glances, she sighed and explained, “I saw an article in the newspaper that a third warehouse may be another active hideout. We would need a stealth team to go to the first warehouse, a backup team to go to the second warehouse just incase, while the third team for guard and if either team is in peril. If the third warehouse is the only one active, the stealth team can migrate there with the guards.”

Dick furrowed his brows thoughtfully. “Will the third hideout even be active by tonight? This is the League, we’re talking about,” he countered.

Barbara smirked. “The third warehouse is most likely not going to be a threat,” she agreed. “I’m not going to tell the team unless necessary.”

“John can lead the third team,” Damian said sternly.

“He’ll be in Blüdhaven tonight,” Babs disputed. “He _does_ have an actual city to take care of.”

Bruce cleared his throat, getting the attention of everyone else in the room. “Why would A’mandine not be capable?” He questioned everyone.

Damian and Mar’i froze, Babs shifted in her chair, feeling guilty. “She’s a fighter, Bruce,” Dick replied vaguely.

Bruce narrowed his eyes. Dick moved his eyes over to Damian and Mar’i, giving them reigns of the conversation. Damian sighed heavily, then turned his wife to meet his wife’s eyes.

She nodded sadly.

* * *

After their explanation, Bruce had been adamant that she not go. “Her personal trauma might put the mission on the line,” he declared.

Mar’i threw her hands up angrily, tears still in her eyes from the story. “She’s a different girl now!” She exclaimed, then caught herself and quieted her voice. “A’ma is a fighter. She’s been training so hard—for years, since the incident,” Mar’i defended her daughter.

“How many times has she encountered the League in her training?” Bruce growled. Mar’i huffed frustratedly, already knowing the answer. Bruce continued, “She is a threat to the team if she lashes out and breaks our cover.”

Damian put his head in his hands, muttering Arabic curses. After a moment of silence, he looked back up. “I agree with Father,” he admitted. “A’ma should not go.”

Mar’i rolled her eyes just as Dick suggested, calmly, “Why don’t we ask her?”

“Ask who what?” John inquired with a raised eyebrow, the group suddenly reappearing behind him. Atalaya and Charlie glanced at each other, then at the group of adults. They were both aware of the tension in the room, so their curiosity was peaked.

A’ma remained still, silent.

Babs turned her chair to her step-granddaughter. “Do you want to go out tonight with the rest of them?” She asked bluntly.

A’ma nodded, confused. “Of course. I said that I wanted to just an hour ago,” she answered, crossing her arms.

Bruce sighed. “Damian and I don’t believe you should go,” he stated. A’ma’s spine straightened. Just as she was about to ask why, Bruce continued, “The League _will_ be there.”

A’ma blinked quickly, the pieces forming together. She hated how her voice shook when she said: “You told him.” Both future Mar’i and Damian had the audacity to appear ashamed. “I can take care of myself,” she asserted. A’ma turned on her heel and jogged upstairs, shame overriding her care for the seven travelers.

The full story had clicked for John, Charlie, and Atalaya—all of whom were hesitating to go upstairs and comfort A’ma. Damian clicked his tongue while Jason whistled lowly. “How did you already mess up the relationship with your granddaughter, B?” Jason asked, judgement dripping from his tone.

Bruce pursed his lips.

Past Damian, without the consent of his own actions, felt his legs begin to move up the cave stairs. However, he felt a small hand stop him. “She needs time alone,” Cass told him.

Damian clenched his jaw, but backed down. Cass dropped her hand. “What is the plan for tonight?” Steph demanded of Bruce, obviously frustrated with the man.

“Barbara tracked down a League warehouse on Grant and 15th. It’s possible that the League has already placed the device somewhere else in order to throw us off their trail,” Bruce told them.

“So we need stealth and someone that can speak Arabic,” Tim commented.

Cass smirked. “Like A’ma,” she said triumphantly.

Past Dick attempted to hide the smile behind his hand casually, but couldn’t help the escaping laugh. “Exactly!” He replied, attempting (and failing) to contain his chuckles.

Future Damian huffed out a breath. “A’ma can’t go on the mission,” he stated sternly.

“What? She grounded or somethin’?” Jason questioned jokingly.

Future Mar’i grit her teeth. “She’s going,” she declared, completely disregarding her father-in-law and husband. “She’s more than capable,” Mar’i finished.

Damian opened his mouth, but future Babs beat him to it. “The warehouse is probably guarded by a few tens of assassins. I suggest forming three teams—one for stealth, another for backup, and another for guard. If no one is there, or it seems like a ploy, there’s a warehouse on Jefferson and 25th that the League owns as well,” the woman explained patiently.

“The backup team can dispatch for the second warehouse if necessary,” future Damian added.

“Okay,” future Mar’i relented, an annoyed expression painted on her face. “What’re the three teams?”

“Dick, Jason, future Mar’i, Steph, and I can be there for backup,” Tim supplied. “Cass, Bruce, and future Damian can serve as stealth while the rest are guarding the warehouses,” he said.

Steph tilted her head, “Why do I have to be backup?” She asked, obviously not happy with her team. “Also, is Charlie a hero?” Steph asked the future inhabitants.

“Nah,” Charlie answered casually. Steph jumped when she heard that voice—she completely forgot that him and Atalaya were still there.

Babs reached under her chair and pulled out a sleek black case. She opened the briefcase with her finger print and revealed it to have multiple comm.s carefully placed in it. “I’ll be in your ears the entire time,” Barbara said casually. “These are very upgraded versions of your comm.s, so I suggest treating them _very_ carefully,” she heavily emphasized the care they needed to have with them.

Jason made grabby hands at the comm.s, but was stopped by a slap on the wrist from Barbara. “Got too many of those in my childhood,” John commented with a smirk. Barbara just looked blandly at her son from over her glasses.

Babs shifted her attention back to Jason. “It’s only 5:30. Considering it’s summer, the sun should set in about 2 and a half hours,” she informed them.

Past Mar’i sighed petulantly. “What do we in that time?” She asked her step-mother.

“We could train,” John suggested with a genuine smile.

Everyone agreed, including Bruce. They trained for about two hours before properly suiting up for the mission. During that time, the groups had combined in various ways to practice combat. John had almost beaten his father in hand-to-hand. After some pushing from both John and Steph, Damian and Mar’i sparred; Damian had won, but Mar’i put up a good fight. It was only about an hour into training that John departed for Blüdhaven.

The sun was setting just as the heroes finished suiting up, including the future adults. Future Mar’i’s Nightstar suit had small modifications to fit her growing body, along with a more skimpy shape. Her sleeves were still puffed and her neckline was round to the tops of her breasts, then plunged down into a v-shape up until her belly-button. Her purple boots now featured a kitten heel, and the fabric was tall enough to reach her knees. Her whole suit was more of a plum, rather than the lilac she wore in her teenage years.

Everyone congregated near the computer, where Barbara was waiting for them to finish dressing. She opened the briefcase again, eliciting a happy noise from both Tim and Jason. “Remember: be cautious with these. If you break these, you _will_ pay,” Babs warned, looking directly at everyone.

Past Mar’i shifted uncomfortably in her spot a bit. Babs was a absolute badass, and she didn’t doubt that she _would_ make them pay. She placed the new comm. into her ear carefully but snuggly.

“The stealth team-“ Before Babs could finish her order, two small figures rushed down the cave stairs.

“Hi, Gamma!” Ry’an greeted Baba excitedly. The woman smiled sweetly in return. “A’ma wants to help with the mission!” He exclaimed, still running to the computer. Babs’ smile didn’t wane.

A’ma was now jogging to the case with her suit in it. Future Damian stopped her by saying, “Help with your grandmother.”

A’ma slowly turned around, a deadly glare in her eye. Her father didn’t recoil in the slightest. It was then that Bruce was struck with how much A’ma and Damian were truly alike—physically, mentally, and emotionally.

“When you were younger than me you were doing missions every week!” She yelled, her anger bubbling.

Her father clenched his jaw. “I was also a killer,” he stated harshly. Past Damian’s eyes lowered, and his Mar’i hesitantly put her hand on his shoulder in an act of comfort. Surprisingly, he didn’t shrug it off.

_My past will always catch up with me._

A’ma pursed her lips, moving her eyes to look away from the entire group. “I don’t want to fight with-“ she started but stopped herself, not looking at anyone in particular still.

Future Damian briefly sighed. It was so silent that the only indicator was the deep heave of his chest. “You may assist your grandmother with the communicators,” he caved. “Nothing else.” Damian could faintly hear his wife sigh frustratedly behind him, but he didn’t care much.

A’ma’s twitch of the lower lip was almost imperceptible, but with an eye so keen as Cass’, she was able to recognize it. The Asian woman knew that A’ma held something from her past, but couldn’t tell exactly what.

Past Mar’i needed to know what happened to her daughter. A’ma had appeared so damaged, and Mar’i’s mouth and hands twitched to do something...anything to help her. It was almost second nature for Mar’i to help someone in anyway she could—that was why she constantly attempted to help Damian in his own personal struggles. Damian seemed so indifferent about them being married and having children—at least, to her. She, ultimately, was happy that it was Damian that she married out of everyone she had met in her life. Mar’i could only hope that Damian felt the same way.

A’ma, with what little pride she had left, stalked over to the computer with her grandmother and carefully picked up a headset that Babs held out to her. The elder had almost appeared...unimpressed with how A’ma handled the situation. A’ma looked down and blinked away the tears.

_Yet another person in your life you’ve disappointed_.

They all efficiently tested the headsets, then the stealth team dispatched after future Damian and Mar’i shared a brief goodbye kiss. Charlie, Ata, and Ry had joined A’ma and Babs at the computer to help anyway they could.

Barbara pulled up the blueprints for both warehouses, then said into her mic, “Guard team, dispatch.”

Only past Mar’i and Damian walked forward. Mar’i furrowed her brows confusedly. “Are we the only ones on this team?” She asked Damian, pointing at herself and the boy.

Damian sighed, annoyed, when the realization set in. “Drake, I will skin you alive,” he muttered frustratedly, kicking up the stand on his bike and swinging his leg around to sit on it. Mar’i sat behind him, smiling.

This was perfect! Damian had been uncomfortable around her the entire trip. It was understandable, but she wanted some genuine alone time with the young man to talk about the possibility of dating. His feelings, around her alone, were not subtle; especially since she could read him so well. And Mar’i was rarely secretive about her feelings and emotions. That was something from both of her parents.

When Barbara saw the two figures skid away on the motorcycle, she couldn’t help but smirk. Mar’i had waxed poetic over Damian months before their relationship, and obviously the girl was going to use this privacy as an opportunity as a way to lay down her true feelings. Barbara only hoped that Damian would take it well, but she had an instinctual feeling he would. Barbara had noticed the subtle, unintentional hints to his true feelings as well.

“ETA, stealth?” A’ma asked monotonously in her mic.

“Seven minutes,” Batman (Bruce) replied in his bass voice. Somehow, it had soothed A’ma a bit. That voice had soothed her after the incident, and it would now. Even though that same voice caused her the pain she was experiencing now.

“Guards?” Babs asked, typing into the computer.

“Ten minutes,” Mar’i chirped loud and clear. The new comm.s worked like a charm. Mar’i tightened her arms around Damian. Yes, they had just taken a sharp turn, but she wanted to feel him close to her. Call her touch-starved.

Damian shifted a bit in his seat when he felt Mar’i’s whole body drape over his. It was almost sensual, the way her curves pressed against his back.

* * *

“We need better names for the teams,” Charlie commented, looking absentmindedly at the computer screen.

Ata twisted her lips, obviously thinking. “Is it not Alpha, Beta, Omega that they usually use?” She inquired.

Charlie rolled his eyes playfully. “Yeah, the Justice League usually uses that. But we should use something more cool!” He countered.

After a minute of both of them thinking, Atalaya exclaimed, “Got it!”

Charlie jumped up in his chair, excited for her reveal. “What is it?”

“Team Serious, Team Playful, and Team Trying to Get a Date with Each Other.”

Everyone at the computer burst into laughter, Babs included.

After a minute, the laughter died down and Charlie looked back at the computer screen. When he peered at the various articles displayed on the screen, he noticed a particular one which caught his fancy. “Hey, Barbara?”

Barbara raised a single eyebrow as an acknowledgment. Charlie continued, “It says in today’s newspaper that the GCPD saw some people covered in black suits killed by an unknown woman with...what appeared to be a sword.”

Babs sighed tiredly. “I did see that this morning. It seems Talia is getting impatient with some of her toys,” she replied.

“It was at a completely different warehouse,” Atalaya added.

Babs huffed, annoyed. “I know that too. That’s why I suggested a backup team. I always thought the third warehouse was owned by some drug dealer, but I couldn’t trace back who. I guess we know now,” she finished with a slightly pinched face.

“Team Serious,” A’ma regarded in the mic, causing Charlie to high five Ata victoriously. “Have you arrived at the site yet?” She asked them.

“We’ve just arrived,” Damian answered. He paused. “Team Serious?”

A’ma’s short reply was: “Ata.”

Team Playful, who were currently stretching and talking, were called over by Barbara. They all jogged to the titanic computer. “There’s two other suspicious warehouses in the area, but I don’t want you all to split.”

They all nodded.

“We’ll dispatch and visit the second warehouse first. We’re going to need the address for the third warehouse, but it shouldn’t be too hard if stealth doesn’t find anything in the first warehouse,” future Mar’i finished for her step-mama.

Barbara nodded proudly, a smirk forming on her face. “Exactly. Good. Dispatch now, please,” she ordered. “ETA should be about eight minutes,” Babs added, turning back to the screen.

After everyone filtered out of the cave—that is, but the Grayson-Wayne kids, Charlie, and Babs—the eldest began typing again.

“Team Trying to Get a Date with Each Other,” Babs regarded past Damian and Mar’i, smirking when she heard the distinct laughs of the Batclan members in her ear. “Arrived yet?” She asked them.

She practically heard Damian pout into his comm. before he replied, “Yes. Moved onto the roof for improved observation.”

“And also to make-out in secret,” Steph joked into her comm.. Again, Babs could practically hear Damian’s pout.

“Team Playful, ring in when you all arrive. If you suspect that there’s enemies in the warehouse—and too many to take on—Team Date will head over,” Barbara informed them before turning off her mic and headphones. The woman turned to A’ma, whose attention was broken easily.

A’ma looked down at her lap self-consciously after taking off her own headset. She opened her mouth once, then twice, but stopped attempting after the third time. Babs’ eyes saddened when she saw her granddaughter’s state. She was obviously feeling disappointed in herself and self-conscious that she didn’t work hard enough to prove to her father that she was a ‘viable’ fighter.

That wasn’t the problem, though. Logically, at least. Damian cared for daughter immensely—probably in ways that A’ma couldn’t comprehend until she was a mother herself. A’ma was a fighter. She never complained during training, never cried once, barely cringed whenever she got injured.

Even before the incident.

The girl was so dedicated to being the absolute best she could be, so it wasn’t logical for her to be self-conscious about that. But that was okay, Babs decided. She’s a teenaged girl. She’s had plenty of trauma. She’s entitled to feel what she wants to feel.

But she’s taking things the wrong way.

And Babs just won’t stand for that. “Your father and mother love you more than you could comprehend,” Barbara murmured to A’ma, whose head was still lowered. “They know you work so hard during training.” Babs could faintly see A’ma’s lower lip tremble. “They love you for you, A’ma. As do I, and your siblings, and Charlie, and your grandfathers, and your other _true_ grandmother.”

A’ma inhaled deeply, suddenly overcome with a fuzzy feeling. It felt warm and comforting. Such a juxtaposition to the past few hours she had experienced in the manor. “Your father made you do this because he thought you couldn’t face the people who hurt you,” Babs stated bluntly. A’ma blinked quickly, the fuzzy, comforting feeling gone and replaced with a simmering anger.

“I suggest you prove him wrong.”

A’ma looked back up at her grandmother, her eyebrows raised hopefully, and expression open yet shocked. The young woman licked her lips, a smirk beginning to form on her beautiful face. Her eyes still held a single question that she couldn’t say aloud.

_Will you really let me do this?_

Babs smirked, eyes shining with pride. She had seen that expression on Stephanie. On Cassandra. On A’ma when she first got Batgirl. A’ma wanted permission, but it wasn’t necessary anymore. A’ma had it before she even asked. “That’s up to you and you only, A’ma,” she answered.

A’ma immediately knew her own answer. The young woman scooped her grandmother into a tight embrace, her eyes shining with thankfulness. A’ma whispered, “Thank you,” then let go of Barbara.

Barbara nodded, giving A’ma old mic set to Charlie. The young man placed it on his head with a grin.

A’ma ran over to her suit case, the glass containing _her_ Batgirl suit. _Her’s_. She popped open the case with shaking, excited fingers, then wrapped them around the thick fabric of _her_ suit. She tugged the fabric off the display, a smirk still etched onto her expression.

This was _her_ suit. And no one was going to tell her otherwise anymore.

_Team Batgirl will dispatch in an estimated time of five minutes._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How was it? I genuinely teared up during the last scene of the chapter. And yes, A’ma’s whole story arc will be explained. 
> 
> Have an amazing day! All love!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, amazing people! I’m back from a short break (because school is a b i t c h) with a long ass chapter! I hope ya’ll enjoy it <3
> 
> WARNING: There is some pretty suggestive material in this. Talks of underage sex and a pretty heavy makeout sesh between two minors. Also some mild violence.

“Just arrived,” Nightwing told Oracle in his comm., ducking behind some crates. Red Robin followed his actions.

“The firearms are likely on the second floor,” Charlie informed them. Dick and Tim turned to look at each other, similar expressions of surprise etched on their faces.

“Charlie?” Red Robin hesitated.

Dick could hear the smirk in his future wife’s voice. “A’ma is a little preoccupied right now,” Babs told them slyly. Nightstar’s lips twitched upwards, as did her past father’s.

Jason whooped quietly in the comm.. “See a couple guys. They only have swords, but they’re on the upper level,” he whispered into his comm..

Nightstar squinted her pupil-less eyes at the scene. They were pacing back and forth on the second floor of the warehouse, likely guarding something. Their only _visible_ weapons were swords, but they probably had a few hidden knives. “Dad,” she got the man’s attention in the comm.. “Time to shine,” she teased, a smirk playing on her lips.

Mar’i fired off a starbolt onto the opposite wall from her, causing the ninja to unsheathe their swords. Nightstar floated to the edge of the second floor railing, her dad behind her with his grapple. With the distraction, Nightstar was able to seamlessly leap above the railing before the men noticed her sneaking presence. Nightwing had travelled to the upper corner of the warehouse with finesse, and Mar’i highly doubted the two men saw her father yet.

The two men pounced on Nightstar. She avoided their swords by crouching down and executing a kick sweep. The men deftly avoiding it by flipping backwards. Nightstar leaped back up, flying up and closer to the men.

They readied their swords, and Mar’i rolled her eyes. She flipped forward into the air, and kicked one man in the chin. The other man began swinging at her, so she flattened her hands on his sword easily. It was in that moment that she was thankful for Damian insisting on training her on sword technique and defenses.

The man struggled with the sword, but she tilted it to her right, eventually knocking it completely out of his grasp with the jab of her knee. Nightwing finally, _finally_ dropped down from the ceiling onto the other man’s shoulders.

The man struggled, digging his glove-covered hands into Nightwing’s spandex-covered thighs. Nightwing smirked and rolled his eyes, grasping the man’s neck with his thin fingers. The ninja suddenly dropped his back onto the hard concrete floor, eliciting an unpleasant grunt from Nightwing.

Nightstar, in the meantime, was slamming her man’s head in the railing, the metal bouncing under the force. She darkly asked him a question in Arabic, but the man just spit up some blood. Nightstar continued slamming the man’s head in.

Nightwing, with some struggle, rolled the man onto his stomach and pushed the man’s head into the concrete. The man struggled more, so Nightwing pulled back the head, then dropped it back onto the concrete.

“Where is the device?” Nightwing questioned him, holding the man by his hair. The man didn’t say anything, so Dick sighed sadly. He absolutely hated doing things like this—it only made him feel like Batman. He repeated the action, then asked the same question. The man seemed to almost hesitate, the blood running down into his mouth, then drooling down onto his chest.

Nightwing almost felt hopeful before the man spit up blood. Dick sighed.

* * *

Tim, Jason, and Steph snuck into the room the two men were guarding in little-to-no time. They could faintly hear Mar’i struggling against the assassins’ sword, but trusted the woman’s abilities.

As they silently entered the room, they saw the forms of three dark men hurriedly conversing with each other. Red Hood could pick up small pieces of the conversation: “ _travel...soon...other....child...slut..._ ”

‘Let’s move,’ Red Robin signed to Spoiler and the other Red. They both nodded before running forward, beginning to fight with the three ninja.

Spoiler ducked when one man attempted to slash her with his sword, then punched him in the gut. He stepped back once, then flipped backwards. Spoiler huffed angrily.

Red Hood flipped towards the man, narrowly avoiding the slashes of his sword. Hood, with some annoyance, took a slash of the sword to land a punch in the man’s nose, which cracked under the pressure. Hood swiftly executed a sweep kick and the man flipped to his right.

Red Robin twirled his bo-staff impressively as the ninja flipped towards him. Tim rolled his eyes. As the man swung his sword, Red Robin blocked it with his staff, then kicked the man in the knee. The ninja’s leg instinctually collapsed, so Red Robin kneed the man’s chin, knocking him onto the floor. Tim made sure to nudge the sword out of the ninja’s hand and throw it in the far corner of the warehouse

Spoiler flipped forwards, jumping to avoid her feet being slashed. Steph made a ‘Hm’ noise, then promptly did a roundhouse kick, knocking the man backwards. Spoiler ran towards the man and executed and clean punch to his ribs. She smirked when she heard a crunch. She then did a front kick, knocking his swaying body onto the floor. Spoiler smiled victoriously, then followed Tim’s actions by taking the man’s sword and tossing it in the opposite corner.

Red Hood ran towards the ninja, pinning them against the wall and punching it in the gut. The man doubled over and gasped loudly, so Hood knocked his head into the same wall. The ninja slumped against the wall, passed out. Jason snatched the sword from the ninja’s weak grasp, then threw it out the window nearest to him.

Jason heard Tim sigh behind him. “Really, Hood?” He asked, annoyed.

“Of course, Red,” he replied slickly, the smirk dripping into his voice.

Spoiler rolled her eyes. “If you guys can shut up, we should help Nightwing and Nightstar. They obviously don’t have the device,” she told them, gesturing around them.

“Then why would they guard this place?” Hood questioned.

Spoiler shrugged. “Dunno. I guess this was a ploy like Oracle said,” she answered, realization dawning on her face. “Shit. They probably already sent someone to the third warehouse to deliver the device there,” Spoiler concluded.

Red Robin nodded. “Most likely. We need to head there before they do something with it,” he declared.

“They better not fuckin’ destroy it,” Hood muttered angrily.

Red Robin shook his head. “No, no. They wouldn’t do that. They just want to kill Nightstar, then they can send _us_ back,” he informed them.

“How reassuring,” Jason commented sarcastically. Steph bit her lip nervously while Tim grimaced.

“I didn’t-“ Tim said before stopping himself. “I meant that if they actually did succeed in killing Nightstar, they wouldn’t leave us here,” he attempted again.

Steph sighed and rolled her eyes impatiently. “We need to leave, Boy Blunder,” she reminded them hurriedly.

Before they could make their first step to help Nightwing and his daughter, Oracle’s voice boomed through their comm.s. “Assistance needed at the third warehouse,” she avowed. “30th and Park.”

Red Robin furrowed his dark brows. “Is Team Serious there?” He asked her.

“No,” she replied, eliciting confused expressions from everyone. “Get over there. Now,” Oracle ordered, then they heard the click, indicating her leave from the line.

Red Robin’s back straightened, then he stored his bo-staff. “We should check on them, then we should all head to the third warehouse,” Spoiler said while walking forward into the hall.

There, Nightwing was leaning casually against the vibrating railing, looking slightly concerned as his daughter talked harshly to the man, in Arabic. “The other one pass out?” Jason asked Dick. Dick just nodded, almost sadly. Jason chuckled, the noise distorted by his helmet and voice synthesizer.

“Oracle said we need to head to the third warehouse to assist someone,” Red Robin told them.

“Who?” Nightwing asked them, now fully standing up.

“Batgirl,” Nightstar suddenly answered, a proud grin on her face. She dropped the disoriented man and kicked him in the gut, then starbolted him in the face. The man slumped onto the floor. “He’s not dead,” Mar’i informed them casually. “It’s just gonna really hurt when he wakes up.”

“That was hot,” Steph muttered, eyes wide and expression amazed.

“What?” Mar’i inquired, appearing alarmed.

“What.”

“¡Vamos, chicos!” Hood yelled, getting their attention.

Mar’i shook out her hair, then flew up. “I’ll fly with Dad. What’s the address?” She asked quickly.

“30th and Park,” Tim informed her. She nodded, then held out her hand for her dad. Nightwing took it, then she pulled him over her back. Together, they flew to the third warehouse.

Spoiler looked at the two other heroes. “I’m riding with Tim.”

* * *

Batman (Damian), Batman (Bruce), and Black Bat had been spying on the warehouse for over an hour when something suspicious happened. Overall, the observations had consisted of men talking in Arabic while transferring explosives.

“Batman to Oracle,” Bruce spoke into his comm.. “Warehouse One contains explosives.”

Barbara made a noise of affirmation. “Thank you.” Bruce turned off his comm., then continued observation for another 45 minutes.

It was when the hour finished that the men had began suspecting something. “ _The third warehouse was just raided,_ ” one ninja announced, making everyone swiftly unsheathe their swords. Bruce growled lowly under his breath.

They all slowly lurked around the warehouse, searching for some indication of the Bats. “Come into the warehouse in four minutes,” Damian ordered to his younger self and wife.

The three Bats all descended upon the gaggle of ninja.

* * *

Twenty minutes passed before Past Nightstar broke. “Dami-“ she began.

“Code names, Nightstar,” Damian reminded her dully.

She rolled her eyes. “Whatever, _Robin_ ,” she relented. “I...” she bit her lip self-consciously. Robin raised an eyebrow questioningly. Mar’i sighed. _Might as well say it now. Like ripping off a band-aid. Besides, we won’t remember anything anyways._

“I like you,” she finally admitted, looking directly at him.

Mar’i could faintly see Damian’s cheeks redden. “And not just because of...this,” she told him, gesturing to the world around them. “I...I’ve liked you for a really long time and I think-“ She stopped herself, not wanting to say something stupid that could jeopardize their entire relationship. _Band-aid, Mar’i. Band-aid._

“Yes, Nightstar?” He asked her, eyes worried.

“I think you like me back,” Mar’i said gently.

There a long pause. Mar’i began rocking back and forth onto her heels nervously. “My affections for you are purely physical,” Damian insisted, making Mar’i furrow her brows confusedly. Damian inwardly berated himself. _Liar_.

“But you always comfort me, Dami,” she argued, then took a deep breath. “Listen, I care just as much for you as you care for me.” She sighed when he didn’t even glance in her direction. “I notice the way you care for me compared to others your age. I like you too, Dami,” Mar’i reassured him.

“I know sometimes it’s hard to talk about your emotions, but that’s why you have me,” Mar’i joked. “I can read you so well, Dami.” It was true, she could read him so well in most situations. Some situations, which mostly included times of isolation and complete disconnect, she couldn’t quite decipher his mood. Otherwise, however, she knew exactly what he needed to be told and when. It hadn’t been a skill she was born with, but something she had developed the more she connected with Damian.

Mar’i continued, “If your attraction with me is purely physical, then you would not have comforted me that time Omar rejected me. Or that time that Dad was being so overbearing about training that I accidentally starbolted him, then cried and apologized profusely.” Mar’i stared off distantly, recalling that day with her father and Damian. She had been crushed by guilt, though her dad reassured her that much worse had happened to him before. She still felt guilt to that day.

She could tell Damian stopped breathing when she turned her stare back to him.

He pursed his lips, looking amongst the vast streets of Gotham. “Mar’i...” he trailed off, looking at the ground. Not once in his life did he think that he would be put in such a vulnerable position. The League had trained him for various physical challenges, but this was purely emotion-driven.

His first kiss with her had been over a year ago—that was when he deduced that he was more than infatuated with Mar’i—and now he was more experienced than her. He had filled the whole year with meaningless vices to fill the hole in his heart. To fill the hole that needed to be purely filled with Mar’i and Mar’i only.

Mar’i had only witnessed some of it. He hadn’t wanted to prance around his new arm candy just for the sake of making someone he loved feel jealous. People in love didn’t do that. _Right?_

“I care for you, Mar’i,” Damian admitted aloud. Mar’i’ could tell the exact moment in which he gave up—when he finally surrendered to his feelings. “I believe my affections go beyond that, but-“

“It’s okay.” Mar’i smiled reassuringly, skipping up to him and gently clasping his hands. “You don’t need to say anything,” she assured him. The tension in his shoulders lessened. “I love you. You don’t need to say it back,” Mar’i told him, her eyes gleaming adoringly in the moonlight.

Mar’i was once again reminded of who truly raised Damian. Talia had never said that she loved Damian-no, she ‘showed’ him by training him day by day, year by year, and implemented the idea that killing was necessary for survival into his head. Mar’i despised that woman for ruining Dami’s only childhood.

The young woman hoped that she could give him another chance at the true teenage experience, free of pressure from his parents and of being Robin. Yes, her being with him wasn’t going to magically fix everything (Mar’i was sometimes naive, but not outright stupid), but she hoped she could ease his anxieties that came with the obligations.

Damian broke her out of his thoughts when he hesitantly cupped her heated face. Mar’i nearly melted into a puddle at the feel of his calloused hands on her cheeks. She hadn’t felt someone so close to her in _so_ long.

“Damian-“

“May I kiss you?” He couldn’t stop himself now. Now that he finally confessed his feelings, so vulnerable only for the beautiful young woman in front of him. Very, _very_ few people saw him like this. Dick, perhaps Father, Pennyworth, maybe Tim if he were stretching. But this vulnerability was completely new territory. Yes, it felt foreign and crude, but he was glad that only Mar’i was able to see him like that. “Please?”

She nodded excitedly.

* * *

Mar’i was gasping on his lap; she was making the most delightful noises. It was sometimes a squeak, but also a moan blended into it. Damian didn’t remember exactly how they ended up on the floor of the roof, but he didn’t mind much.

Mar’i rolled her hips seductively onto his own, eliciting a deep groan from him. Mar’i couldn’t exactly tell if it was from the fact that he was probably (most definitely) hard or the fact that he had a cup on. Either way, she continued her passionate kisses down his neck, fully intending to make a large mark.

She hadn’t ( _honestly_ ) anticipated that Damian and her would go this far so fast. She had expected a chaste kiss on the lips, then him fleeing with the excuse of a mission. Not _this_. Mar’i knew she would feel overwhelmed later, but she wanted to live in the moment. Her insecurities be damned, she wanted to enjoy herself for one night before she forget all of this.

Damian groaned again, sliding his hands down from her waist to her bottom. He squeezed it, and Mar’i smiled against his tan skin. She bent down and attached her lips to his, nibbling on his lower lip as she did so. They both groaned desperately in each other’s mouths as they continued their ministrations.

“Come into the warehouse in four minutes.”

Mar’i yelped and detached her lips from Damian’s, blushing madly. “Holy shit,” she panted, holding onto Damian’s broad shoulders. “We turned off our comm.s, right?”

Damian tucked a piece of her hair behind her hair, looking at the comm.. “Yours was off, as well as mine,” he assured her.

She sighed deeply. “Thanks,” she said with a refreshing smile. He couldn’t help but smile back. Of course, the tension in his groin didn’t ease, but he didn’t care much.

Much of his childhood was comprised of sexual frustration. For almost two years he had patrolled with various erections, training himself to either will themself away or just outright ignore them. He refused to relieve his own erections until he was almost 15-years-old—resulting in a release of years of tension.

The first time he had finished by masturbation, he groaned so loud that his father knocked on his door, slightly worried. Thankfully, before Damian could reply, Pennyworth whisked his father away with some measly excuse. Damian had been no more thankful for Pennyworth than in that moment.

That saying, when Damian first had sex (it was with a girl his age from his father’s company—they had been seeing each other for a few weeks), it lasted quite...long. There was absolutely no passion or love behind the act, which made it overall quite unenjoyable for him. The young lady had been patient and kind, telling him what to do and when, as she had been experienced.

He wished it were Mar’i. Maybe he would’ve been able to finish. Maybe he wouldn’t have been thinking about her instead during the entire act. Maybe the young lady wouldn’t have been so put off by his impotence.

One more lady drifted into his bed before he gave up. Sex without love and emotional intimacy, he concluded, was not his forte.

Damian hesitated before asking, “Have you had sex before?”

Mar’i bit her lip. “No,” she admitted. “I only...touch myself.” Damian’s adam’s apple bobbed when he pictured it. “Have you?” Mar’i inquired. The young lady knew she would be mortified with herself with her previous comment, but she couldn’t find it within herself to care when she was currently making out with _Damian Wayne_.

“Yes,” he answered quietly. He smiled bitterly. “Sadly, the two women I have bedded I have not...enjoyed,” he confessed.

Mar’i almost appeared disappointed. “Why?”

Damian clicked his tongue in a self-deprecating manner. “I had no true emotional attachment to them.”

Mar’i’s eyes widened. “Oh...I-“ she attempted to compose her thoughts. _Like ripping off a band-aid...Might as well..._ “Were you...thinking of...me?” She choked out.

Damian tilted his head, smirking (and wow she hadn’t noticed how attractive it was up-close until now) and lifting his head to look directly in Mar’i’s eyes. “That’s a sudden conclusion,” he commented. There was a lilt in the conversation.

Then, “Yes.”

Mar’i gasped, shifting uncomfortably on his lap. “Really? For real?”

“Yes.” The shame leaked through his tone.

Mar’i roughly grabbed the sides of Damian’s face, sliding her lips onto his own. She lowered back onto his lap and shifted teasingly. She suddenly pulled away, panting for any grasp on oxygen. “That’s...” _Hot? Sexy? Kinda weird? Adorable?_ “...really sweet, Dami.”

Damian tried to catch his breath, the last hour finally catching up with him. _We just confessed after years of romantic tension_. _And yet we’re all to forget of this trip._ Damian’s mother had, in the entirety of his childhood, constantly told him of people’s emotional faults in romantic relationships. They were purely for breeding, so when the last hour’s events finally sunk in he felt inwardly disappointed with himself. Yes, he had relations with those two other ladies, but they were to take his mind away from Mar’i and perhaps lead to proper courting. Those relations only led to more thoughts of Mar’i.

Mar’i, herself, felt elated with Damian’s acceptance of their newfound romantic attractions. Well, they weren’t very new, but just outwardly shown now. _Very_ outwardly shown. Mar’i couldn’t bother herself with thought of what would happen when the trip ended, and this night would erase from their memories. Now was now, and she was going to appreciate it for once, dammit.

“We need to join the battle,” Damian informed her, still staring at her face. Mar’i fought down the blush after seeing the loving gleam in his eye, but nodded anyway. She slowly disentangled herself from him and straightened out her suit. He mirrored her movements, then they simultaneously slipped down into the warehouse.

* * *

It was not long before Nightstar and Nightwing arrived at the third warehouse. Nightwing launched off his daughter’s back and jogged to the warehouse entrance. “Hear anything?” He asked Nightstar.

Nightstar pressed her hear to the concrete, then nodded quickly. “There’s some...loud talking. We need to head in now,” she told him worriedly.

Nightwing peeked into the warehouse, searching for any ninja. When the coast appeared clear, he motioned for his daughter to follow. They both snuck their way behind some wooden boxes. Dick looked for his granddaughter around the warehouse, then heard the harsh slamming of bodies on the concrete floor.

There, Batgirl stood over the ninja with a proud smirk. Nightstar smiled proudly herself, then flew over the boxes. “Duck!” Nightstar yelled at her daughter. Her daughter did so, causing Nightstar to starbolt another stray ninja.

“There’s more on the second floor,” Batgirl informed them. “I wanted to wait for you all to arrive before I bit off more than I could chew.”

Nightwing glanced around at the collapsed bodies, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “I would say you did pretty good,” he praised Batgirl.

A faint blush appeared on the girl’s cheeks as she ducked her head, embarrassed at the compliment. “Thank you,” A’ma replied. The girl had barely seemed affected by the fight. The only indication she was in it at all was the smear of blood on the fabric of her left arm. “Should we wait for the others to arrive before going upstairs?” She asked the two elders.

Nightwing and Nightstar locked eyes with one another, then silently came up with an answer. “They should be here soon. We can head upstairs now,” Mar’i answered. Batgirl nodded once, then grappled up to the second floor. Nightwing followed her actions.

Batgirl silently paced the upper railings, peeking through each doorway. It was only in the last doorway when she noticed a small movement. Batgirl motioned for Nightwing and Nightstar to join her, then rounded the corner.

Two ninja instantly leaped onto her, one attempting to choke her while the other tried to incapacitate her hands. Batgirl bent her knees and, with kinetic energy, kicked upward into the face of one ninja. The other ninja, the one attempting to choke her, tightened his chokehold and kicked her spine. Batgirl gasped and felt a painful feeling roll up her spine, as if it were a fast-crawling bug. She could feel her knees temporarily collapse under her.

Batgirl then felt a familiar, comforting presence near her and the slamming of a body against the concrete. Batgirl shook her head, then focused her eyes to see Nightwing, Red Robin, Spoiler, and Nightstar fighting a dozen of ninja. She inwardly berated herself for needing assistance at all. She was perfectly fine when she was alone, but with the company of other heroes, she is suddenly unable to properly defend herself.

Nightwing ducked under a skillful swing of a leg, then asked, “Where is Red Hood?”

Spoiler landed a harsh punch on a ninja, then replied, “He had to run here!” Some mischievousness leaked through her voice. By that time, Batgirl was fully joined in the fight, her kicks aggressive and punches vigorous.

They all continued in the fight until only three ninja were left. “Where is the device?” Red Robin demanded. One ninja scoffed, then spoke in quick Arabic. Nightstar and Batgirl’s eyes widened, then they both simultaneously moved onto the ninja.

“Where did he bring it?!” Nightstar yelled, holding the ninja’s wrists behind his back. The ninja smirked, then twisted out of her hold in a series of elaborate flips. Before they could even blink, he and one other ninja had escaped.

Red Hood had finally entered. “Fuck,” he muttered. “I’m late, aren’t I?”

Batgirl put her head in her hands, then brushed her fingers through her hair in her own soothing manner. “They said they already made a transfer to another warehouse,” she informed them. They all sighed tiredly.

“So this is just a wild goose chase?” Stephanie said impatiently.

Nightwing suggested, “Maybe they brought it to Team Serious’ warehouse?”

Red Robin shook his head. “No, they know about our positions at all times. They wouldn’t put it into a war zone. Plus, Team Serious or Oracle would tell us about it if they did find it.” Tim furrowed his brows, obviously in thought.

“Let’s...” they all simultaneously turned their heads to Mar’i, “go back to the cave. Oracle will most likely have some way of how we can deal with this.” Mar’i seemed only a bit defeated, which was a feat as the rest of the group was mostly frustrated.

They all agreed (with only a groan of displeasure from Red Hood), then went back to the cave empty-handed.

* * *

The battle had only lasted a few minutes, thankfully. Fighting with a hard-on is not always...convenient.

Bruce threw a ninja against the wall, creating a resounding _thud_. “Where is the device?” Bruce demanded. The ninja said nothing, but lowered his face. Bruce narrowed his eyes dangerously. “Where is it?” He growled in his bass, punching the man on the temple—hard enough to hurt but soft enough to not cause a mild concussion.

Black Bat stepped forward after the second punch. “He won’t say,” she interjected. Bruce grumbled under his breath, then dropped the man. The man, as if he were a puppet with the strings cut off, slumped against the ground uselessly.

They suddenly heard Oracle’s voice boom through their comm.s. “Come back to the cave. We need to talk,” she told them. They all, except for Bruce and future Damian broke their attention from the collapsed ninja in front of them. The ninja, with eyes directed away from him, stood back up and silently began to reatreat from the group.

Bruce, fortunately, flicked his wrist and a minuscule, black tracker made it’s way onto the ninja’s back. It had blended perfectly with the black suit and weighed almost nothing, so the ninja continued sneaking out the window and into the night. Future Damian sighed tiredly, then nodded once at his father. Bruce nodded back.

* * *

By the time they arrived back at the cave, the rest of the heroes were in their nightwear. “What happened?” Bruce demanded, pulling back his cowl.

Team Playful all glanced at one another, then Dick answered, “The second warehouse was mostly vacant, save for a couple ninja. We suspected they may have snuck out the device to the third warehouse, then Babs said we needed to go to warehouse three because Batgirl needed help-“

“What?” Future Damian interrupted, his voice angry. He directed his attention to his first-born. “Excuse me?” He asked, as if she had an actual answer.

A’ma shrugged casually, although her face betrayed her—she was upset. “They needed help,” she replied, as though it were simple. Her father opened his mouth again, but A’ma continued, “I’ve trained so hard for the past three years, Dad. I’m more than...” she suddenly stopped, then looked away from him. A’ma bit her lip, then said, “I’m more than my past. I can _do this_! Why don’t you fucking believe me!?”

The cave went completely silent, while future Damian pinched the bridge of his nose with two of his fingers. He lifted his head. “One: _language_. Two: I do believe you can anything,” he listed off. It was true: he believed all his children could do anything they put their mind to. However, this was an instance in which his daughter couldn’t control herself. If she couldn’t control herself, they she wouldn’t be able to control the mission. It had felt so logical, but, at the same time, Damian felt guilt settle in his stomach.

A’ma scoffed, then turned to look at Barbara. “What do we do?” She whispered, feeling more tired than ever. Thank god she didn’t have school. Her father had seemed adamant that she do nothing more than comm.s, but she would not simply allow that. She was _Batgirl_. She had trained for years, putting all her energy and time into the mantel. Grandma Babs had shown her that she earned that mantel, and that attempting to take it away from her was going to cause more than a storm. Her shameful past be damned.

Barbara sighed, then replied, “I honestly don’t know.”

“I put a tracker on one of her men,” Bruce informed them suddenly. Everyone but future Damian turned their heads to him, eyes hopeful.

“That means we could maybe see where the device is?” Past Mar’i asked excitedly.

Past Damian grumbled, a small smile on his lips. It was a rare sight for everyone else. “Perhaps. Mother’s ninja usually reconvened in different places.”

Tim facepalmed. “Seriously?”

“However, if they are meeting to form alternate ways to throw us off their trail, then he could perhaps lead us to the device,” future Damian told him.

Barbara began swiftly typing on the computer, then pulled up coordinates of a rapidly moving red dot. “Who-“

“I will.”

“Me.”

Bruce and future Damian stilled, looking at each other. Both had eagerly volunteered to watch the computer all night, but neither wanted to be the first to move to the computer. Future Mar’i rolled her eyes. “C’mon, Dami,” she urged. “Bruce said he could watch it all night. You need to sleep.” Mar’i walked to her husband, raising a challenging brow.

Damian clenched his jaw, then nodded. He turned to the past group. “You will need to sleep down here again,” he told them. They all moaned and groaned, but followed his orders anyway.

A’ma avoided his gaze when her father looked at her, but she felt stress-filled tears fill her eyes. _No. He wouldn’t take away Batgirl from me. He couldn’t_. Future Damian finally pulled back his cowl, then kneeled down to talk to his daughter. “I am sorry,” he said. His under-eyes were darkened, and face pale. A’ma shuddered in relief, feeling some pressure ease from her chest. She wouldn’t have to fight with her dad even more.

A’ma didn’t even glance at him, but nodded. After a moment of hesitation, she slipped away from him and rushed upstairs. Atalaya, Charlie, and Ry’an were not too far behind her with variations of disappointed glares directed towards Damian.

Damian got back up and turned around, expecting to see his wife with open arms. Instead, he was met with a sad expression.

“She’s more capable than you could imagine, Dami,” Mar’i murmured, then floated upstairs. Damian clenched his jaw.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did ya like it!? I swear I had so much trouble with this chapter...
> 
> I hope you have an absolutely amazing day, lovelies! All love <3


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, everyone! I’m so sorry for not posting for a very long time, but if you saw my last chapter (which was literally just an author’s note) I explained that these last few weeks have been living hell for me. Depressive episode for the win! In the meantime, I edited the first chapter and finally finished this chapter. I tried my best, but there are some aspects I’m disappointed but honestly I would need to add a ton of random, useless scenes to actually be fully satisfied. Oh the issues of writing. 
> 
> Also, this chapter is pretty dark. And long. So please strap in ladies, gentlemen, and non-binary pals.

The night had passed in a blur for Bruce. The red dot had moved to various locations, all of which he documented, then settled to the third warehouse on 30th and Park. Bruce had occupied his extra time by writing a mission report; then when he got bored of that he began scrolling through the Gotham local news. 

Morning came sooner than he thought it would, and with that came his’ heroes waking up. They all woke up one by one, but they all asked for updates on the ninja’s whereabouts. 

Charlie, only two hours after the first traveler woke up, arrived downstairs and rushed back to the coffee maker, making himself the addictive beverage while Ata began talking with past Mar’i about yesterday’s mission. 

“What happened in the warehouse? I heard you all were waiting for almost an hour before actually getting compromised,” Atalaya queried. 

Mar’i blushed and sipped her tea, avoiding the younger girl’s looks. “Nothing much,” she murmured, causing Ata to furrow her brows confusedly. 

“Did...something happen?”

Mar’i opened her mouth, then closed it. She tried again: “No,” the young woman said unconvincingly, her tone lilted. Atalaya tilted her head, her growing grin knowing. She glanced at past Damian from the corner of her eye, then raised a single brow as a wanted confirmation. Mar’i sighed, then felt a smile tug at the corner of her lips. “Yeah,” she replied, a full-out grin breaking out on her face. 

Atalaya’s eyes widened comically. “¿En realidad?” She asked, amazed. Mar’i simply nodded, blushing madly. “I don’t know if I am disgusted or happy,” Ata muttered. Charlie plodded up to them, his coffee firmly in his right hand. “¿Estás bien?” Atalaya asked, slightly concerned. 

Charlie nodded lazily, attempting to blink away his exhaustion. “Jus’ tired,” he replied. 

Atalaya smiled back at him and nodded. She turned her head back to Mar’i. “I may regret asking this, but...what did you two do?” 

Mar’i shifted her eyes to Charlie, then shrugged. “We talked. Then...” The young woman somehow blushed harder, then looked away. Charlie, who was now somehow fully awake, and Atalaya’s eyes met, then they both turned back to stare at Mar’i expectantly. 

Charlie, with slightly red cheeks and suddenly wide blue eyes, hesitated, “Did you two...actually...?” He raised his eyebrows suggestively, his face now red as a tomato. He barred his teeth awkwardly while he ducked his head, cringing. 

Mar’i choked a bit on her tea. “No-no! We didn’t!” She yelled defensively, grabbing everyone else’s attention. Dick turned her way, his eyebrows furrowed and head tilted confusedly. Mar’i felt her stomach drop when her father began walking towards them. 

“What’s going on?” Dick asked casually, looking at Ata and Charlie. Mar’i could see from the corner of her eye that her Damian was glaring at Dick, Ata, and Charlie. 

Mar’i gulped down her tea. “Nothing,” she quickly replied. 

Her answer had apparently been too swift, because Dick’s smile slipped from his face. “Really?” Dick challenged. 

Mar’i gazed back at Atalaya, searching desperately for some assistance. Atalaya stumbled on her words, “Um, we...we were-talking...” She couldn’t quite find her words. She had never truly lied to her grandparents as there was no meaning to it—both sets were incredibly accepting and understanding with her. However, to Atalaya, her mother’s relationship with Dick was the complete opposite. Was that how grandparent relationships usually worked? With her biological mother she never had one. 

Charlie, like his mother, was incredibly adept in the art of lying and weaving one’s way out of a situation. That was one of the things that made her a legendary hero. “We were just talking about the mission,” Charlie intercepted. Dick’s mouth opened to a perfect ‘o’. 

Ata perked up. “Yah.” She nodded quickly. She should know how to lie so seamlessly! Like Charlie. She grew up in a bad part of Gotham before the Grayson-Waynes took her in. 

Dick smiled a bit uncomfortably. “So what happened on your end? Ours was us running around, pretty much,” Dick said, turning towards his daughter. 

Mar’i took a longer sip of her tea. “Right,” she muttered into her cup, suddenly angry. Why was it that her father had always wormed into her life when he wanted to make sure she was being the pure, innocent self she was being when she was a child? Didn’t he know she was grown up, now? “Damian and I stood guard while the rest were in the warehouse on covert,” she explained, a fake smile plastered on her expression. Dick nodded, obviously unconvinced. “At one point we were compromised I guess, so we just...joined them.” Her explanation, she knew would make no difference. His stubborn attitude would always trump his overall care for her independence. 

Dick made a throaty hum, and Mar’i almost huffed in dejection. “What were you guys doing before that?” Dick asked his daughter, temporarily forgetting about the presence of the other teens. 

Mar’i’s face reddened angrily. She crossed her arms defensively. “Nothing,” she muttered through her clenched teeth. Mar’i felt backed into a corner, not knowing what to say and unable to properly articulate her frustrations currently. Maybe when they were in their proper time, but not know. He couldn’t let her have this independence even now? Today? 

“Mar’i-“

“Why don’t you believe me?” Mar’i asked passionately, her hair alighting. Dick sighed tiredly. Ata and Charlie glanced briefly at each other, their looks sad and reminiscent of A’ma. 

Mar’i, truly, wanted to know why her father constantly questioned her decisions and motivations. Perhaps it was the detective in him, or maybe the hero. It some small part of her heart she attempted to empathize with him. He had probably seen horrors against various young women of her size and face, something no man, let alone father, should stumble upon. However, that empathy was unable to be produced. 

Atalaya interjected before the argument could escalate. She could practically hear her mother’s passive-aggressive thoughts. “It’s fine, Grandpa Dick,” she assured him, although her expression displayed she was nervous. “They didn’t do anything bad.” 

Mar’i looked back at her father, her glare fiery. “You can’t protect me from everything,” she detested. She didn’t care anymore for manners or decency, she simply wanted her father to fully understand the impact of his actions. “You were probably having sex when you were my age!” Mar’i blurted. 

The whole room went completely silent. 

Damian facepalmed while Dick yelled, “Sex!?” Mar’i flinched when he said this, the embarrassment finally hitting her. _Sometimes decency is necessary, Mar’i_ _,_ she heard Damian’s voice in her head. “You are a  child, Mar’i Grayson!”

Mar’i’s face reddened more, but out of anger. She was  grown.  A young woman who had thoughts and opinions of her own. “No, Dad! I’m not!” She yelled back. 

“Wus’ sex?” A sleepy Ry’an asked, appearing out of thin air. 

Dick’s back instantly straightened. He, along with Mar’i, had not heard nor seen the little boy come down the cave stairs, and both Graysons felt themselves instantly tense with the presence of young ears. 

“Nothing, ursuleț,” the man stiffly replied. Ry’an stared at him with furrowed brows, obviously suspicious, but eventually shrugged his shoulders.

“Okie!”

Everyone simultaneously let out a long breath. “Can I get some milk, please?” Ry’an asked, looking up at Mar’i with puppy-eyes. 

Mar’i shifted her gaze from the boy, glared at her father, then replied with false enthusiasm, “Of course, Ry!” She strutted over to the breakfast table and aggressively grabbed the liter of milk. Mar’i proceeded to fill about half a cup full of the liquid, then gave it to her future son with a fake smile. 

The boy took it with the wide smile that looked eerily similar to Damian’s. “Thank you!” He said, then noticed her stilled expression. “Why are you mad?” He inquired, he tilted his head curiously. 

Mar’i blinked, peering down at the boy. “How did you...?” 

The boy took a sip of his milk, then cartoonishly smacked his tongue. He gigged quietly to himself, causing the other people in the room to smile. “When you’re mad, you can be two things,” Ry’an explained, as though it were obviously. 

When he turned to peer around the room and see everyone’s lost expressions, he sighed cutely. “You can be either ‘mad-mad’ or ‘happy-mad’,” Ry’an stated, like he just told the secret to the universe. “Rinow you’re ‘happy-mad’,” he added, though everyone had picked up what he had put down. 

Mar’i nodded along lamely. “Uh huh,” she agreed. She seriously considered punching her dad in the face, for a hard second. 

Before anyone could say another word, steps came down the cave stairs. A’ma, future Mar’i, and future Bruce all arrived at the bottom in varying states of happiness. “Good morning, A’mie,” Ry’an greeted happily after taking another sip of his milk. 

A’ma didn’t reply, but went to the coffee machine. Ry’an rolled his eyes in a manner not-too-unlike his mother. “Morning Mama! Morning Gampa Bruce!” 

Future Mar’i walked up to Ry’an and tucked him into her hip, smiling at him all the while. “How’d you sleep, dragă?” She asked her son. 

“Good, Mama!” He smiled widely up at her, then took another sip of his milk. Future Mar’i shook her head fondly, then moved past him to reach the teabags. 

“Morning, Ata, Charlie,” the mother yelled over her shoulder. “Morning, everyone.” Everyone greeted back in varying degrees of sleepiness. 

Future Bruce walked to the table as well, beginning to make himself a cup of coffee. “Why’re you down here, old man?” Jason asked him, making Bruce clench his jaw. 

Future Bruce pointedly glanced down at his left ring finger, then smirked. “To escape the missus, Jaybird,” he replied, making sure to use the despised nickname on purpose. 

Stephanie raised her eyebrows, shocked. “Huh!? You actually settle down and marry? Bruce Wayne? Lonely person extraordinaire,” she teased with an awed smile on her face. 

Bruce shook his head while he poured a packet of sugar into his coffee. Damian’s mind, however, was focused on something else. “Father actually marries,” he repeated stupidly. 

Dick crossed his arms. “Who, Bruce?” 

Future Bruce smirked while he mixed his coffee, then made his way back upstairs without a single word. 

“Asshole,” Steph muttered, looking up the stairs where the old man once was. She turned her attention back to the future members. “Who!?” She demanded, but they all remained silent with smirks on their faces. Ry’an giggled into his milk cup. Steph glared at each of them. “You’re all annoying,” she said annoyedly. 

Atalaya turned to her mother. “Did you not have any appointments hoy?” She asked Mar’i. 

Mar’i shook her head. “I post-poned them until tomorrow so we could have a break today,” she assured her daughter. 

Atalaya looked around at the tense room, then huffed through her nose. “I think that was the best decision,” she said tiredly. 

* * *

John arrived at the manor not long after that with his father is tow. Barbara had remained at the manor because she was working late, and driving home was an unneeded hassle. Damian still hadn’t come down the cave by the time 1:30 arrived. 

“Where’s Papá?” Atalaya asked future Mar’i, concerned. 

Mar’i sighed. “He’s at work. He’ll be home in about 30 minutes.” 

A’ma clicked her tongue. “I think he should stay until 8,” she said, her tone filled with venom. 

“That’s when you go on patrol, A’mie,” Ry’an supplied, confused. 

“ _Eh_ -xactly, Ry’an!” A’ma replied with false enthusiasm. 

Future Mar’i rolled her eyes. “A’ma, your dad loves you very mu-“

“ _So_ much that he would want me to be someone I’m not,” A’ma interrupted. Sarcasm dripped from her tone like butter drips when melted. 

Atalaya, Charlie, and Ry’an all glanced peripherally at one another, silently requesting that they leave their small group. They all quickly got up from their chairs and left to talk to John and both Dicks. 

Mar’i’s eyes shifted to the ground when the three kids left their group, ashamed for being such a distant mother. Mar’i had usually taken great interest in her kids’ feelings and moods, but she felt she had underperformed as a mother when A’ma finally blew up. This had to be due to weeks of anger and sadness. 

“I know you love Batgirl, Honey,” Mar’i soothed, her voice low, “but sometimes there are things out of our control. I love you, A’mandine. I want you to be the best woman you can be,” A’ma felt a spark of hope—that her mother would take her side—then: “but if you’re unable to do certain missions, that’s okay too.” 

Well, that spark died. 

A’ma felt tears rise in her eyes, her vision becoming blurry and distorted. She hated herself for crying over something so insignificant, but couldn’t help the flood of emotions coursing through her. “I can do this, Mama. I’m  _capable_ ,” she restated, as though it were a chant. For her—at least—it began to feel like a chant, and with that came old memories. 

Mar’i paused, taking note of her daughter’s body language and emotions. She was scared, and desperate. “I would never let you not do a certain mission, A’ma,” Mar’i told her, her voice firm. “You’ve proven enough to everybody that you’re  _more_ than capable.”

Mar’i felt  _horrible_. 

A’ma put her head in her hands, the fat tears beginning to fall down her tan cheeks. Mar’i got up from the chair and tucked her daughter into her torso, the motion feeling too familiar. A’ma must have felt it too, because she suddenly said, “I love you, too.”

Mar’i stroked her hair, knowing the girl was now starting to calm down. A’ma pulled back after a minute or so, blushing with embarrassment. Mar’i finally caved when her daughter looked up at her with a tear-soaked face. “You can come with us tonight, Îngeraș” she declared. 

A’ma’s eyes widened before she smiled. A wide, genuine smile that Mar’i hadn’t seen in... _ weeks? Have Dami and I really become that unobservant? _

After that, the two women sat there and held each other until Damian arrived home. By that time, it was already 2 o’clock. Damian immediately walked up to the younger version of his father. “Have the read on the ninja?” Damian asked him directly. 

Bruce nodded once, then went back to scrolling on his phone. Damian looked around the room, seemingly not knowing what to do with himself. When his eyes caught the sight of his daughter and wife in an embrace, his heart skipped a beat. 

A’ma had been upset. And he had no doubt in his mind that it was due to him. And that thought-idea that he had caused her distress made him...feel distressed. 

He robotically moved to his other son and daughter. While Ry’an was talking with John and Charlie, Atalaya caught his glance and immediately looked away with an exasperated huff of the breath. Damian walked over and placed a heavy hand over Ata’s left shoulder. 

She still refused to look at him. “Atalaya,” he murmured. 

Atalaya glanced at him from the corner of her eye. “A’ma is hurt,” she stated angrily. By this time, John, Charlie, and Ry’an all forgot about their conversation. Atalaya had refused to stand the treatment of her older sister anymore. She had grown up with no siblings, meaning that she had no one to feel protective over. However, with this new family came new obligations to them. From the way her father had been treating A’ma, attempting to become blindly ignorant and protect her to the point of control, Atalaya had no doubt in her mind that this was an instance in which she would need to protect her older sister. In a way that she couldn’t three years ago. 

Damian’s heart sank into his stomach. “I understand, Atalaya. However-“ 

“She’s coming tonight,” John interjected. Damian turned to glare at him, but John pointedly ignored the angry look. “A’ma can come with me.” Damian lifted his hand which was resting on Ata’s shoulder. He opened his mouth, but was once again interrupted by John. “That’s final, Damian.” John could no longer tolerate the emotional turmoil this was putting on A’ma. He partially understood Damian’s intentions, but the man was simply blowing it out of proportion. 

Damian blinked, then nodded when the sight of his daughter and wife holding each other flashed behind his eyelids again. Why would he do that to his own daughter? 

“She really likes Batgirl,” Ry’an thought aloud, surprising Damian.

Damian had noticed that—that A’ma liked- no,  _adored_ Batgirl. She shined brighter than the city when they caught another mugger, or escorted a young woman home. She trained hard—never complained and always fought with focus and as much concentration as her predecessors. A’ma was, however...

His baby. 

He couldn’t let her go. He just couldn’t. After everything she had been through-they’ve been through as a family. He  needed  to protect her from this case. She was his baby. 

But she stopped being his baby three years ago after he failed to save her. He didn’t want to admit it. 

“Daddy? Are you listening?” Ry’an asked with an impatient pout. 

Damian shook out his thoughts. “I apologize, Ry’an. Continue,” he said softly. 

Ry’an smiled, then Damian’s heart skipped another beat. 

* * *

It was after another hour that Damian could escape the conversation and talk privately with A’ma. 

“Yes?” The girl asked sourly, her arms crossed. Her mother sat beside her, looking oddly at Damian. 

Damian hesitantly walked closer to A’ma, then kneeled down to meet her eyes. He was reminded of a familiar scene three years ago, and he visibly shuddered. “I am sorry,” he muttered, looking straight into A’ma’s green eyes. Eyes completely identical to his own, and his biological mother’s. It made him angry to remember that half of him was associated with that woman. 

His new mother, however, had green eyes too. Selina was kinder, patient, and overall more motherly than his own blood. Bruce had chosen well in the second half of his life, at least. 

A’ma raised a single eyebrow. “Why?” 

Damian sighed. “For underestimating you, A’ma,” he finally admitted.  _ For seeing you as my baby, when you, yourself, proved to me otherwise. So many times over the years. I’ve always known of you and your sibling’s true integrity and excellence and stubbornness. I’ve always loved you all so much to the point that I’ve become blinded by it. _

A’ma slumped into her chair, then suddenly leaned forward into her father’s arms. He accepted the hug with a great amount of relief. 

* * *

7 o’clock hit quickly as A’ma blended back into the past group and talked with the past version of her parents. It was interesting—to see them in such a casual demeanor and tone. Past Mar’i was a talker, while the younger version of her Dad made snide quips and surprisingly insightful comments. They were so similar to A’ma parents, but also so different. They looked at each other in the same way, though. It was endearing to know her parents cultivated a relationship over many, many years rather than just stumble in a companionship and make her. 

Barbara and past Bruce called in everyone to go over the plan. “The teams will remain the same, but Batgirl will move to Team Serious.” A’ma nodded. “Team Serious will be at the third warehouse while Mar’i, John, and Damian take sight on the rooftops.” Barbara paused, then muttered, “Hopefully you guys actually pay attention this time.” 

Tim facepalmed while Jason and Steph laughed. Past Mar’i blushed madly and Damian pointedly ignored everyone’s looks. John stared at the two teens, not quite knowing if he should feel amused or disgusted. 

“Continuing on...” Barbara drawled with a raised eyebrow and slight upturn of the corner of her lip. “Team Playful will be at the second warehouse, where they’re likely to be holding dummy guards. Your team will be the distraction,” she informed them. Everyone nodded. Barbara gestured to the little boy to the side of her chair, “Ry’an and I will be in your ears.” 

“Is that...okay?” Tim asked uncertainly. 

“I am perfectly capable. Thank you  _very_ much,” Ry’an told him, raising his nose and crossing his arms. A smile played on future Mar’i’s lips when she was reminded of Damian as a child. 

“Any  _relevant_ questions?” Babs asked, a proud smirk on her lips. 

No one spoke up, although Tim looked mildly offended. “Very well. We’ll deploy in ten minutes,” Bruce demanded, causing everyone to move to the locker rooms. Bruce turned to Barbara. 

The red-haired woman didn’t need Bruce to say a single word for her to reply, “A’ma was given permission by  both  of her parents. Plus,” Babs smirked, “she’s a toughie.” 

Bruce stilled for a moment, as though he were giving the last comment pondering, then nodded once. He moved to the locker rooms to change, himself. 

* * *

As Team Serious stood guard on the rafters of the third warehouse, they were duly reminded of the night before. It was the exact identical scene to the night before, but the ninja were working with more urgency. 

Damian narrowed his eyes.  _Now, why is that?_

“ _Faster! _ ” One of the lead men ordered. The lower-level ninja all scurried about, hurrying to carry crates and boxes. 

On the very corner of the warehouse was a side room, the interior concealed by one-way glass. 

_That’s why._

* * *

Team Playful arrived at the second warehouse, energy high. After Red Hood and Red Robin both scaled the building, they cleared them to enter it, and the group entered with a bang. 

Spoiler kicked open the door ( _which only hurt her foot a bit_ ) with a great amount of aggression—creating an echo of a  bang  in the warehouse. Every ninja turned their heads to face the group of three. 

Nightstar flew upward, going for the ninja on the second floor railing, while Spoiler and Nightwing attacked the ninja on the first floor. The sounds of swords hitting sticks, bodies hitting the floor, and kicks being flawlessly executed resounded throughout the warehouse. 

It was after three long minutes that Red Hood and Red Robin finally returned. “What were you two idiots doing?!” Spoiler yelled out across the warehouse. The two men jumped into the fight with ease. 

“Scaling!” Red Robin replied with a betrayed voice. 

“Riiight!” Steph teased back after she kick-swept a ninja. She grumbled when they leapt backwards and picked their sword back up. 

Nightstar grunted when a ninja landed a perfect kick on her side, instinctively curling backwards. When she shook back to her bearings, she charged up what little energy she had to fire a starbolt, landing it on the ninja’s shoulder. The flesh seared under her attack, and she couldn’t help but flinch sympathetically. 

Nightwing flipped backwards in a fantastical manner and succeeded in kicking a ninja in the nose. During his final flip, he pulled out a single escrima stick and swung it back and planted it on the ninja’s ribs, then pushing the button to let out the electrical signal. The ninja seized under the weapon, so Nightwing ceased the electrocution. 

Red Robin and Red Hood fought the ninja with ease, teaming up when necessary and splitting up between those times. Just as Red Hood kicked a ninja in the ribs, hearing the bones crack under the sudden pressure, Red Robin landed a kick-sweep, effectively knocking the man over. 

The fight lasted just under 20 minutes, although everyone’s chest was heaving by the time the ninja’s bodies were all on the ground. Spoiler groaned when she felt her right ribs creak uncomfortably. “ _Fuck_ ,” she muttered. 

Red Robin rushed over to her, placing his hand over her right side and feeling for any lacerations. “Broken ribs,” he informed her, some concern laced in his tone. 

She shook her head. “I’m fine,” Steph insisted, then reached for her comm.. “O, we just finished up with the second warehouse. What’s next?” Her voice rushed out the last question, her breath becoming shorter and shorter. 

“Oracle to Spoiler, I’m assuming broken ribs?” Oracle didn’t bother waiting for a response. “Come back to the cave,” she ordered.

“But-“ 

“The third warehouse should be under fire soon. An update from Batgirl informed me that they just heard about your battle,” Oracle continued, causing Spoiler to roll her eyes annoyedly. 

“We’re on our way. Team Playful out,” Nightwing said into his comm.. 

Steph glanced at Tim. “I’m going.” 

“Steph, _p_ _ uh _ lease,” Tim practically begged. 

Steph rolled her eyes. Before she could make another comeback, Mar’i interrupted her, “You’re hurt, Steph. It’s okay,” she said softly, like a soothing ocean wave. “We can take care of everything,” Mar’i assured Steph. 

Steph blinked, then slowly nodded. “Fine.” Mar’i smiled victoriously, then nodded back at her. 

Steph began walking to the exit, Red Robin hesitantly trailing behind her. She turned back around, then was painfully reminded of the pain in her side. “I can get to the cave  myself,  Boy Blunder,” Steph bit out. 

Tim stopped, then slouched depressingly. Steph proceeded to walk outside, then they heard the distinct sound of the motorcycle grinding against the road. 

“Necesitamos ir al almacén,” Jason said, breaking the silence. Everyone nodded and moved to the exit—the same way they came in. 

* * *

“Did you two actually...” John pointed between the two of them with a slightly disgusted look. 

Mar’i narrowed her eyes dangerously. “No,” she affirmed. “ _And_ it’s none of your business.” 

Damian completely disregarded the existence of the two siblings and instead busied himself with peering amongst the streets the Gotham. The three heroes’ comm.s suddenly went off. “Position compromised. Wait until requested,” Batgirl spoke into their ears, then their comm.s turned off. 

Mar’i and Damian glanced worriedly at each other, but John assured them, “They can take care of themselves. If any assistance is needed, they’ll comm. us.” 

The two teens’ chests hallowed a bit, then they broke their shared gazes to look back down at the city. John sighed, knowing he would be the third-wheel for the entire night. Of course his mom put him to this job. 

* * *

Nightwing, Nightstar, Red Robin, and Red Hood arrived at the third warehouse as Team Serious jumped down from the rafters. The group was invaded by a wave of ninja, their skillful, graceful swords slicing through the air and deftly being avoided by each hero. 

Future Damian stepped sideways as to avoid a fatal slice of a sword, then leapt onto the ninja. The ninja bent backwards, causing Damian to flip just above him. Damian twisted his body to look at him again, then briefly wondered if he survived the last three years in the League—and absolute rage was coursing through his veins as he thought of this man being the source of his family’s troubles. 

Damian, with the same grace of his mother, leapt forward and kneed the man in the stomach. The man doubled over and the Batman didn’t hesitate to execute a harsh punch on his chin, punching upward. The man’s head snapped backwards, and he collapsed in a heaping pile of heavy breaths and bloody teeth. Damian pushed his foot into his stomach, making sure to activate the spiked feet beforehand. 

The man passed out. 

Damian, with heaving breaths, moved onto the next ninja with little hesitance. He shall pay no kind to  _that_ type of man. 

Batgirl punched the man in front of her with vengeance. It was no doubt that this was her biological grandmother’s plan—to cause old memories to resurface—but A’ma was not so naive and inexperienced to allow this to truly affect her performance. She was more than her past—and she was prove that again and again. 

Batgirl finished the man off with a mean roundhouse kick, then smirked. The only thing her biological grandmother could do to actually affect her performance is kill her. 

They fought with energy and tiredness wrapped into one—their last few days catching up on them, but the motivation to find the device pushing them to move forward. When Nightstar looked around, saw the hoards of ninja seemingly coming from no where, she clicked her comm. back on. “Robin, please come down,” she panted into her comm.. 

“Affirmed,” the younger version of her husband stiffly replied, making her roll her eyes. She almost wanted to ask her brother and younger self to come down, but guard was still necessary if the plan were to move smoothly. Plus, she knew her younger self would be tired from the lack of sun in the last few days, and her younger brother had been exhausted, running between protecting Gotham and Bludhaven. 

Damian soon joined the fight, all arrogant energy and flawless skill that his Robin frequently exuded. The battle continued on for almost 15 minutes, the ninja endless and heroes’ adrenaline beginning to wane. Mar’i, in particular, felt her powers failing her. She had, without her own choice, been avoiding the sun, the main source of her power, so the more she fought the more she felt faint. 

Nightstar, after uselessly flailing for over a minute, felt a gentle hand on her back which guided her to the side of the fight which no one was currently occupied. When she looked up, expecting Damian, she was surprised to find Nightwing with a more-than-concerned expression etched on his face. 

“I’m okay,” Mar’i slurred out, slumping against the concrete wall. “Tired,” she informed him. Nightwing nodded understandingly, but his expression did not deplete. “No sun.” 

Mar’i focused her attention on the heroes, smiling when she saw her husband perfectly land a round-house kick. Nightwing sighed tiredly, rubbing his face with a hand, then kissed his future daughter’s hairline. “Stay,” he ordered softly, then added, “please.” 

Mar’i chuckled drunkenly, but remained in the same place. Over the many years of being Nightstar, she had learned that patience is key, and that waiting on the sidelines in sometimes necessary. She wished she knew that sooner. She wished she knew so much sooner. 

Only ten more minutes passed till the group was finished, their chests caving in from exertion and faces flushed red with adrenaline. Bruce, however, had little disregard for his own state, and threw an explosive batarang at the lock of the side door. The doorknob exploded, pieces of metal scattering throughout the air and wood splintering. Mar’i felt her feet rush to her husband’s side before she could even fully decipher the being. 

Talia al Ghul materialized from the doorway, only a mere 12 feet away from the eight heroes. She held a superior aura around her, and past Damian couldn’t help it when he automatically straightened his spine in her presence. She, with her clicking black heels, walked closer to be only about 10 feet away from them. 

“Hello, Beloved,” she drawled sourly. She took another step, and future Damian tensed for a fight. “Do not worry, Damian,” Talia spat out. “I will not harm you nor A’ma.” Her tone changed greatly, somehow transforming sweet and almost motherly. 

A’ma tensed up involuntarily as old memories flashed behind her eyes, invading her thoughts. She felt some bile rise up her throat, but refused to open her mouth. She swallowed it down. Nothing had, truly, prepared her for this and she briefly thought that the past version of her grandfather was right.  _She can’t do this_. 

Dick’s whole body tensed with anger. This  _woman_ had decided the fate of his daughter before even attempting to understand her truly. Dick, despite what Mar’i had thought of some of his dumber mistakes, loved her with all his heart—and more. To just allow this  woman  to invade their bond was absolutely infuriating. 

“Nightstar is somewhere safe,” Dick told her, face decidedly blank. 

Talia clicked her tongue, peeved. Damian lifted his head, knowing what she was about to do next. The man grabbed Red Hood’s bicep, not caring for unnecessary force. “ _ Give me your .45 _ ,” he demanded quietly in Spanish. Jason glanced rudely at the man, but complied. 

Before Damian could make another step, Talia pulled out a gun from her back waist and aimed it for A’ma. A’ma twitched, shifting her eyes from each of her parents in her peripherals. The bile rose, and she audibly gulped it back down her dry throat. 

Mar’i’s eyes narrowed greatly, a killer glint lying in it. Involuntarily, she placed her weak body in front of her daughter’s, her whole form covering A’ma’s. A’ma tensed even more. 

It had happened too fast. 

Bruce leapt onto Talia, attempting to uppercut her. The woman, however, flipped back and executed a roundhouse kick. Bruce grabbed her ankle, then jabbed it meanly with his elbow. The crack of the ligament was clear and loud, but Talia hadn’t cared too much for it. 

Talia suddenly jumped onto Red Robin’s shoulders, boxing his head in with her thighs. Tim planted an explosive in her thigh, roughly grabbed her waist, and launched her across the room. Talia skidded to halt, then extracted the explosive from her thigh to skillfully flick it in A’ma’s direction. Hood pushed A’ma and Mar’i away from the explosion, covering his own body with theirs. 

Dick leaped to the woman, who arose from the ground. Dick kicked her torso, barely knocking her back. Talia slammed her knee into Nightwing’s stomach, eliciting a low groan of pain. 

The gunshot echoed in the warehouse, causing A’ma to begin to feel the panic form in her chest. Her vision was covered by her mother’s body.  _ She had thought that her father was shot. _

It was only after she harshly pushed away her mother that the panic ceased. There, stood a struggling Talia al Ghul with a gunshot wound in her upper left thigh. 

Dick with the distraction, kneed her face. Blood spilled over Talia’s serene face, and she fell back. Dick stepped onto her ankle, causing the broken ligament to creak under his foot. 

And there, Damian Wayne, a loved father, aimed the .45 at his biological mother, Talia al Ghul. Talia didn’t move an inch, and A’ma was suddenly hyper-aware of everything going on around her. 

Damian’s face gave away no emotion, but Mar’i knew otherwise. Her husband was easy for her to read—far too easy. He was conflicted, inwardly. There, lied his mother who had technically raised him. Whom also endangered himself, their daughter, and mother of his children. 

“Kill me, Damian,” Talia drawled. “Kill your mother. The one woman that truly raised you,” she spat out. A’ma felt her anxiety swell in her chest, as if it were an orchestra. 

She opened her mouth to stop her father, but words were suddenly foreign to her mouth. She wanted—needed to say so many things to him before he did something he would regret. She wanted to apologize. Say she knew how her past damaged him as much as her—say that she could’ve done something to stop it. Anything. 

Just as Damian cocked the gun, A’ma yelped and a bright purple flash enveloped the room.

_She remembered arriving at the Gotham fairgrounds with her parents on a humid spring day. Her mother had suggested it, while her father had been reluctant to take the whole day off. His work load from both W.E. and being Batman was more than twice than of what it usually was, and he had only asked for the following evening off. However, Mar’i had managed to convince him overnight. A’ma remembered hearing funny noises from their room that night, but just shrugged it off—her young age of four made her unaware of some adult practices._

_When they arrived, A’ma was swung onto her father’s broad shoulders, and her tinkling laugh made both of her parents smile. They encountered a few friends there—Colin, Cass, and Jason—and A’ma pouted as her parents stopped walking to talk to them. She had appreciated their company, but wanted to get popcorn and go on the Ferris Wheel._

_Colin was there with his new boyfriend while Cass and Jason went together as friends. Cass always dragged whomever she could to those kinds of events, even if some paparazzi invaded their privacy._

_After babbling for what seemed like forever, her mom and dad finished talking with the two groups and asked A’ma what she would like to do. “Popcorn!” She exclaimed happily._

_The two adults smiled at one another. “This is your day, A’ma,” Mar’i reminded her while leading the way to the popcorn stand. A’ma nodded along cheerfully, excited for her snack._

_They quickly ordered the popcorn—which was honestly enough to feed an entire horse—and snacked on that while they played the fair games. After making A’ma climb off his shoulders, Damian managed to win her a giant stuffed panda from the basketball stand._

_A’ma, at first, hugged the panda tightly, proclaiming the name as: “Panda!” She then gave the animal to her mother to fully embrace her father, thanking him profusely for the kind gift. Damian smiled sweetly and kissed her hairline, then put her back on his shoulders._

_They all continued wandering around the fair, encountering a few characters. One of them had been a female clown, her exterior jovial and obviously passionate about her job. A’ma enthusiastically sprinted up to her, hugging the clown around her waist._

_Mar’i jogged up the clown. She had apologized for her daughter, then knelt down to A’ma. “What do we say when we want to touch people, A’ma?”_

_A’ma quickly retracted from the character, then apologized and asked properly if she could hug the woman. The clown just smiled widely and opened her arms as wide as the sea._

_After taking a few pictures, the family of three were off and searching to play more stands. Mar’i won them one more stuffed animal—a frog—and kindly handed it to A’ma, who grinned widely. She had named that one ‘Froggy!’ Then she hugged her mother tightly in thanks. Mar’i had only said, “I love you, A’mandine.”_

_A’ma replied, “I love you too, Mama!” The little girl then pranced back to her father and asked to be put back on his shoulders. The man huffed fondly but did so._

_By the time the sun began to set, they still hadn’t gone on the Ferris Wheel. After some begging from A’ma, the family of three finally shot up to the top of the sky._

_“Woah,” A’ma breathed to herself, amazed. She had never been up that high in her entire life. Her parents were both behind her to ensure she wouldn’t fall off the edge. “Thank you, Mama and Daddy.” The girl, however, didn’t break her gaze from the lit-up city._

_“You’re welcome, Honey,” Mar’i had said. A’ma thought she heard her parents share a short kiss above her head, but she couldn’t find it within herself to think of it as grody._

_“Happy Birthday, Habibti,” Damian murmured gently._

_Mar’i chuckled, the noise sweet and flowery. “Can you believe you’re five now, A’ma?”_

_A’ma grinned, the wind in her face refreshing. “I’m a big girl now, Mama!” She exclaimed, her eyes dancing across the Gotham skyline..._

A’ma shakily dropped her arm, her chest heaving greatly from the exertion. In front of her lied the unconscious form of Talia al Ghul. 

“I didn’t know you could do that,” Dick uttered, amazed. He now stood a few feet away from Talia, jumping away when A’ma’s hand sprouted her first starbolt. 

Future Mar’i stared at her daughter, a smile forming on her face. “We didn’t know either.”

A’ma blinked quickly, her senses coming back to her, and looked up at her father. “I...” she tried. “Are you okay?” A’ma asked, concerned. 

Damian put the safety back on the gun and carefully placed it in his belt. “Yes,” he replied quietly. He felt disappointed in himself—he had grown so much as a hero, but the arrival of Talia had only reversed all of his hard work. He had planned to just knock her out with the butt of Jason’s gun, but the invasive thoughts of killing her encouraged him to do just that: kill her. 

But the look on his daughter’s face...

A’ma turned her attention back to Talia, who was still lying stiff. “Oh god...” she turned away from the woman and instead peered at her mother. “Is she...” A’ma couldn’t finish her thought, a sudden nauseating feeling permeating throughout her body. Future Mar’i rushed to her daughter’s side, tucking her against her chest protectively. A’ma had wanted her dead on various occasions, but this was completely different; by actually doing the action it meant one thing: she was a...killer. 

Damian kneeled down to Talia and checked the pulse on her wrist. “She’s alive. It’s faint, but there, Habibti,” Damian told her assuredly. A’ma sagged her entire body, relief replacing the nauseous feeling. 

“That was awesome, A’mie!” Ry’an exclaimed through the comm.s.

A’ma winced. “That was not awesome, Ry’an. I almost killed our biological grandmother,” the girl responded, the wariness leaking through her voice. She was  _tired_. 

Ry’an uttered a haughty noise of disagreement. “Well from what Mama and Daddy told us, she’s a  _bitch_!” 

“Ry’an!” Mar’i warned through the comm..

“No cursing,” Damian muttered angrily through the comm. at the same time. 

Jason, Steph, and Cass snickered in their comm.s. It was only then that past Damian was slapped in the face with the domestic behavior the whole family exhibited...again. Not only was A’ma embracing her mother for comfort, but Ry’an was attempting the lighten the situation with crude humor, fully aware of how his parents would react. 

But. No. 

That wouldn’t be possible for Damian in his universe. No one would love a former killer—especially someone as empathetic as Mar’i Grayson. Once they arrived back to their time, Damian would resort back to his self-destructive tendencies and Mar’i her slightly over-bearing ones. The two teens could never belong together. 

_Here is the proof right in front of you, you stupid boy. Don’t deny it anymore_. 

Damian paused. Mar’i had also been open to him, the other night. She had confessed her true feelings and laid her secrets to him, not holding anything back. His entire future had been impacted by her. They had _children_. Who was he to deny the paths of a universe, whether that be his current or a different one? Who was he to deny _proof_? 

His enlightening thoughts were interrupted by Oracle demanding Damian to retrieve the device from Talia’s office, then she called everyone back to the cave. The entire group responded with variations of confirmations, then they dispersed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! Did you like it? 
> 
> All love! <3


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, people! I’m back with another chap! I know this is fast, but I’ll explain. Soooo pretty much I had these last few chapters written before I even started the first chapter. I know, I know, it may seem weird, but it connects full circle. Before I had written anything down for this story, I had thought the whole thing out. Everything was in my head, so I knew exactly what the ending was going to be like before it was in my docs. TO CONCLUDE A LONG ASS EXPLANATION, there’s like, two more chapters and they’ll come out pretty quickly. MEANING: this is not the last chapter. Hang in there, please. 
> 
> WARNING: Mentions of sexual assault, physical and psychological torture. Do NOT read this anymore if you are triggered by those things. Please. I love ya’ll too much. 
> 
> ANYWAYS, I hope you all enjoy the chapter!

As they all returned back to the cave, they could see Dick intensely speaking with Barbara, the woman questioning him about something while Dick seemingly attempted to explain something. Future Mar’i sagged. She honestly couldn’t find the energy within herself to become concerned.

Talia, with a zip tie around her wrists and ankles (one which throbbed meanly), was tossed over Bruce’s shoulder, unconscious. Future Damian, without even a glance in his father’s direction, ordered him, “Follow me.” The man led him to a small, secluded prison with one-way glass on all four walls. Bruce didn’t doubt that they were indestructible; he also didn’t doubt the whole cell was inescapable. 

Bruce placed Talia down in the cell, his heart angry. The Bat left with little concern to the zip-ties, already knowing she could find her own way out of them. As Damian closed the door of the cell behind Bruce, the older man couldn’t help but feel a bit of himself break with Talia. She had, truly, been someone he had temporarily loved—even though that love was fickle, delicate.

But the love of his future granddaughter trumped that fickle love.

By the time the two fathers returned back to the main anatomy of the cave, future Barbara and Dick were gone, and their teams were cleaning themselves up. Damian shifted his eyes downward. “You may stay here until tomorrow. Our past selves are exhausted,” he commented. His tense shoulders refused to move. 

Bruce turned his head to face the future version of his son. He saw so much of himself in him, and didn’t know if he disliked it or not. Bruce knew himself enough that he could tell what Damian was thinking. “You didn’t kill Talia.”

Damian clenched his jaw until it hurt. “I could’ve. I would have,” he gritted out.

“You didn’t.”

Damian huffed through his nose, then walked away. He wanted to see his wife and children—to see if they were okay.

Before he could walk to them, however, he saw a familiar form walking towards him. Damian sighed, then greeted, “Hello, Timothy.”

Future Tim nodded in his direction. “Hey, Damian,” he began. “I snatched the pills from my department tonight,” he told him, holding the orange bottle up. “Everyone was ecstatic that I was home from my vacation early. Except Steph.” 

Damian breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you,” he said, decidedly ignoring the last part of Tim’s deceleration. Tim tossed the pills to Damian, who barely managed to catch them.

Tim smirked. “Tired?”

“Very.” Damian couldn’t bother himself with asking how his and Steph’s vacation was. He already felt weighted down due to them ending it early. Time-traveling heroes usually require that. 

Tim snorted sympathetically. “Sorry. At least they’ll be gone tomorrow. Right?”

Damian stilled. _Yes. They’ll be gone tomorrow, in their proper time. Completely erased from this time_. “Yes,” he gritted out.

He didn’t even notice his teeth were clenched.

He really wanted his wife and children.

* * *

“I don’t understand, Dick,” Babs said, absolutely taken-aback by her husband’s request. “Why would you want them to travel in multiple time periods before they’re transported to their own?” She asked, annoyed by the lack of proper explanation

Dick’s expression stilled. Should he tell her the truth? Well, that was, honestly, the only option with his wife. She could easily tell a lie from a truth, and wouldn’t hesitate to call him out on it. After more inward deliberation, he finally admitted, “I remember.”

Barbara’s jaw dropped minutely. “Excuse me?”

Dick’s shoulders slumped, and he seemed to age a bit more in his wife’s eyes. “I remember what happened when we were...here,” he clarified.

Multiple emotions seemed to flit across Barbara’s expression—shock, amazement, happiness, then it settled upon anger. “Why didn’t you tell me!?” She demanded.

Dick rubbed his forehead tiredly. “I remembered after I saw myself,” he informed her. “And everyone was busy with the case-“

“I’ll do it,” Babs interrupted him. She now held a completely new expression, one of understanding. 

Dick’s expression lightened. “Really?”

She sighed, looking down at the device past Damian had given her before going to change. “Yes,” she confirmed.

Her husband kneeled down to peck her on the lips. “I love you. Thank you.”

She rolled her eyes fondly. “Whatever, Blue,” she quipped. She shifted her attention to the device, which was in her left hand. “It may take a while to familiarize myself with the code, but I’ll manage.”

“You always do,” Dick complimented with a loving smile. Barbara scoffed. “Another thing,” Babs fixed her glasses, silently telling him to continue. “We need to make a note for ourselves in about 10 years.”

Barbara narrowed her eyes. “Why?”

* * *

The night passed in a blur, in which Barbara committed herself to coding the device to visit certain time periods, while the two teams patched themselves up and stumbled to sleep. Cass had been severely injured during the fight, causing her to retreat into the rafters. She had ended up with a sprained ankle, along with a slash on her arm causing need for stitches. It was in those moments in which she had to be patched up that she wished Alfred could live forever.

Future Mar’i had pulled her past self aside, asking her if she were willing to sleep upstairs that night so that when she were to wake up she could soak up some sun. The young woman was immensely relieved, and replied that she would be more than willing.

So, the whole future team, along with past Mar’i, slept upstairs in the manor for the entire night. By the time morning hit, and the unfiltered sun hit both Mar’is’ bodies, they were feeling much better than the night before. In separate rooms—future Mar’i with her husband and Mar’i in a guest room—they spent hours basking in the sun rays.

Just after 11 o’clock hit, A’ma was requested to wake up the younger version of her mother. A’ma knocked hesitated on the guest bedroom door, still slightly tired from the previous, long day.

The past version of her mother swung open the door, revealing a much more awake young woman. A’ma smiled shyly. “We need to go downstairs,” she informed Mar’i.

Mar’i nodded and bit her lip to hide her smile, then walked back into the depths of her room, not bothering to close the door behind her. “I’ll get ready really quickly, then I’ll go downstairs,” she told A’ma.

A’ma nodded, looking around the room. She stilled for a moment, wanting to say something but not quite knowing if it was her territory. Mar’i noticed this, stopped her movement, then asked, “What’s wrong?”

A’ma huffed through her nose, the sound vaguely similar to a laugh. Of course Mar’i would care for her feelings despite A’ma not being her daughter yet. “I heard you and Grandpa Dick talking yesterday,” she said.

Mar’i’s face tensed. “He’s stubborn,” Mar’i replied vaguely.

“He cares about you,” A’ma refuted, surprising both of them. Mar’i’s eyes widened, then she looked down guiltily.

“I wish he understood that I’m not a baby anymore,” Mar’i confessed. There. She finally said what she had been feeling for years. Yes, Damian knew—but he only knew through observation. Mar’i never told him explicitly about her feelings on the matter, and she never wanted to. She felt horrible for feeling that way. She should be grateful for having a father that was as caring and loving as Dick Grayson (especially since her mother was forever gone), but he was sometimes _so_ overbearing.

Sometimes, Mar’i wished they understood one another better.

A’ma bit her lip worriedly. It felt so familiar. “Prove it to him,” she ordered.

Mar’i, now snapped out of her thoughts, looked at A’ma oddly. “Wuh?”

“Prove to him that you’re the woman who you become.”

Mar’i paused. Then smiled. A wide, face-splitting grin that made the whole room shine. A’ma felt a surge of pride crawl up her spine. “You’re right, A’ma,” Mar’i said, her eyes gleaming lovingly. “Thank you. So much,” she added, then pranced to the bathroom to change and brush her teeth.

A’ma pursed her lips, attempting to hide the growing grin on her face.

But she couldn’t.

* * *

They all congregated to the cave by 11:30 arrived, and the device was now fully coded. Barbara had not informed her Mar’i and Damian of the changes she would make to the time-traveling device, but she was too tired to even attempt an explanation. They would find out one way or another.

The room was tense, wondering who was going to speak first. The journey to the future had cultivated new and unexpected relationships, but most of all it made all past travelers feel some sense of comfort. Comfort that their futures were not filled with so much bloodshed, that the end of the world was not inevitable—that they were happy.

_That they were happy._

They hadn’t settled in the state of happiness since before each of their endeavors in the hero community—some had less time than others. They were happy here, in this time. Yes, there were familial issues, but all families have those, right?

They didn’t want that to end. Whether that to be witness, or an active participant—it didn’t matter. That state tempted them all in a way that brought everyone together.

They all desired to be happy in the way their future selves were.

“Things aren’t always as they seem,” future Damian told them, seeming to read their minds.

Past Dick took a deep breath. “You all seem so happy,” he confessed.

“We are,” future Mar’i suddenly said, her eyes serious and mouth a slight upturn. There was another bout of silence, then Mar’i announced, “We need to talk to you two.” She pointed to her past self and Damian.

Her husband shook his head, a small smile playing at his lips, then he followed his wife to a more secluded part of the cave to speak with the younger versions of themselves. When they arrived in a quiet, private part of the cave, Mar’i looked at the married couple sadly, while Damian seemed as though he wanted a straight answer as to why they were pulled aside.

Future Mar’i spoke first, her tone tough, “Life’s not perfect. A few things get in the way of your relationship, but we make it through,” she said. “It took really long to have A’ma and Ry’an,” she informed her younger self. “You’ll hate yourself for it, but it’s okay. A’ma, although she was...unexpected, it took seven years,” Mar’i breathed out.

Past Mar’i’s face fell, disappointed with her own body. Her future self continued, “It’s okay, though. We have her and Ry’an and Atalaya. They’re absolutely amazing.” The woman felt tears invade her eyes, so she stopped talking.

“You’re allowed to love each other,” future Damian suddenly said, surprisingly both past travelers. “Don’t deny it,” he ordered, as though he could tell exactly what his younger self was thinking beforehand.

Both past teens looked at the married couple, then turned their heads to look at each other. Their gazes held something different—something that they had been unable to convey before the conversation.

“You need to go,” Damian interrupted them. “Give this to your father,” Damian told Mar’i, giving her the bottle of pills. She held it as though it were a ticking time bomb. The two teens slowly walked back to where their times’ people were. Mar’i and Damian briefly glanced at each other, then joined their younger selves.

The entire group had erupted into conversations by the time the married couple blended back into them. Charlie and Atalaya were talking with Tim, Jason, Cass, and Steph while A’ma was privately speaking with Bruce. Ry’an busied himself by talking Dick’s ear off, John standing off the side as more of an observer than an active participant in the conversation; both father and son were obviously fond of the talkative boy. And Mar’i and Damian remained talking to each other, in private.

While future Mar’i and Damian looked upon the younger versions of themselves and their family, they recalled their hardships from that time to now. The times in which they felt completely alone, isolated and unable to run in space. Continuing to struggle to breathe while also forging new relationships and becoming better partners every single day.

They remembered the worst days of their lives, while also the best. The memories of A’ma returning from the incident, the few months before her twelfth birthday. But also the good memories—the memories of Ry’an’s birth, of adopting Atalaya, and finding out about A’ma.

Those were the moments that made them the happy selves they were today.

Those were the memories they chose to cherish everyday, while also paying homage to the bad ones. To allowing themselves to feel sad and allowing themselves to feel happiness. To everything in between.

Those were the moments that defined their entire family.

Barbara wheeled to the front of the group, grabbing everyone’s attention. In her lap, sat the time-traveling device. All the past travelers felt their hearts drop one again.

“It’s time to go.”

Bruce had actually _hugged_ A’ma. Dick had embraced every future inhabitant while also giving them a piece of advice. Jason joked around and hesitantly fist-bumped the future people, while Tim awkwardly waved good-bye. Steph unashamedly attacked every future person with a tight hug, making lame jokes about time travel that no one should’ve laughed at, but everyone did. Cass smiled that mysterious, wispy smile and hugged A’ma, telling her to push through it.

Mar’i smiled sadly and told everyone that she would miss them, hugging her future children and telling each one of them that she loved them. Damian had briefly talked with his children in Arabic, telling them to continue fighting for themselves, then shortly embraced each of them.

Barbara instructed them on how to use the device, then they left in a bright flash.

It felt anti-climactic. At least, to the future people.

“Is that it?” Ry’an asked, visibly distressed.

Damian lowered his eyes, then answered, “Yes, Ry’an. That’s it.”

* * *

The group suddenly popped into existence, all jerking and trying to not make any noise. Dick had signed to see if everyone was alright, and everyone replied that they were okay. Mar’i and Damian appeared a little more ruffled than the others, but simply complied and their responses were ‘okay’ and ‘adequate’.

They seemed to have landed in a dank part of the Batcave that was a secluded, almost like a closet without a door. Jason took a deep breath, trying to relieve his own panic in being in such a tight space with such domineering people.

Then they heard rushed footsteps out of their closet—they were distant but distinct.

Bruce snuck a look at the scene before them, then narrowed his eyes. ‘We’re a few years off,’ he signed. Then he looked back at the scene, trying to decipher the distant figures that seemed so familiar yet not so.

_That was odd_. Barbara made sure to be exact in her calculations. The only way she could be a ‘few years off’ is if she was purposefully wrong. That woman knew what she knew.

Tim’s shoulders sagged and Mar’i silently huffed. Then they heard it; a sniffle so small and weak that it almost seemed non-apparent. Most of the group rushed to look at the scene, but Bruce turned to glare at them for their impulsivity.

Mar’i, with her flight and acrobatic skills, was able to climb the doorway of the closet and look at the sight by hanging from the ceiling and peering from the top of the doorway. Her hair had, unfortunately, spilled over the doorway—although the distant figures didn’t notice at all. The sight of his niece flying so loosely almost made Jason laugh aloud, but Steph elbowed him in the stomach before he could.

“Îngeraș, we love you so much,” a soft, vulnerable, yet familiar voice told what seemed like her young daughter. The mother wasn’t facing the group, but instead had her full focus on her child.

The daughter was attempting to become as small as she could, with her knees up to her chin and her tan, thin arms secured around her dirty legs. Her wrists and ankles displayed severe rope burns if the dried blood could say anything. _Constant friction._

Her apparent father, whom was standing a few feet behind the mother, seemed to not know what to do with himself, but he seemed to hold the weight of the world on his shoulders. His posture was slumped and his knees were bent; close to _shaking_. As if he could barely hold himself up with that immense weight which was holding him down.

The daughter didn’t bother turning to her father, but she muttered a small, “May I just be with Mama?”

He didn’t even bother arguing...remained docile. His shakey knees led him to the showers, his head now down and eyes closed. The mother didn’t seem to know what to do, or she was waiting for her daughter to do something.

The daughter audibly swallowed, so loud that the past group heard, then reached for her torn up shirt.

The past family looked away, realizing the context. The mother was collecting evidence from her daughter. The evidence being her daughter’s clothing. Her daughter was rap-

Dick choked on his own thoughts, his throat beginning to close up with empathy. He breathed in deeply, attempting to regain some self-control and stop the forming dizziness. His head felt light, his heart erratic.

Bruce felt his chest tighten—knowing that they were launched into this time unexpectedly felt as though fate was playing some dark trick on him. Why was he to witness this? Why were his children to witness this?

The rest of the family seemed shaken up, especially Jason. Tim was calculating. _Maybe they’re taking everything the wrong way_. Except, _no_.

They weren’t.

Bruce knew that people in the world rape little girls...he’s encountered it in his many years. The blood on her wrists showed that she was tied down for a long period of time—most likely by something that could cause an immense amount of friction. Bruce clenched his fists. They hadn’t told him that they used rope.

They heard plastic bags rustling and the sounds of sniffling. It all seemed too vivid and...scary. “I can’t look at Father anymore...” The daughter trailed off, sounding guilty but not too hesitant. Bruce looked down, suddenly feeling too heavy to hold himself up. He should warn the others. He couldn’t find it within himself, though.

The sound that came out of her mother’s mouth sounded almost inhuman—a choked sob. A pause for her to collect her tears and thoughts, then, “Your...” another pause, “dad is not your biological grandmother.”

The whole past group except Bruce physically retracted. _Her grandmother did this?_ Grandmas are supposed to make their grandkids cookies and spoil them with goods. Not this.

The daughter took a deep breath, trying to control her respiration again. The whole group, especially Jason, grimaced. They knew the feeling. “Ok.” Her small voice echoed throughout the cave. Her voice was so weak and frail, yet it seemed to shake up the strong, secure cave.

Mar’i and Steph began visibly crying. They covered their mouths so they couldn’t be heard, but everyone could tell they were barely containing their hiccups. Because of her depression, Mar’i was forced to float back down to the ground near Damian. She dropped her head on his right shoulder, which was tense beyond belief. Mar’i’s crying continued, but it was less incessant.

Then they heard steps which were apparently going to and fro the table which the little girl was sitting on. They could only guess the mother was getting her daughter a heavy blanket.

A few moments passed, which Cass peered at the scene to see if the ladies were okay to look at again. She gave them a signal that they could again.

Damian felt sick to his stomach, for some reason. Mar’i’s tears paired with the fact that the young lady being raped (conducted by _her own grandmother_?) made him feel disgusting, vile. Steph made a small squeak, her wailing unable to be contained. The women in the main anatomy of the cave didn’t seem to notice, surprisingly, but the whole past family snapped their heads to the 26-year-old woman.

Then the young girl erupted into tears. Loud, hiccuping, desperate sobs that made the whole room tilt on its axis as she attempted to grasp onto any oxygen. Panicked sobs that the group has encountered way too many times in orphans—in each other. Helpless tears filled with anguish and the feeling of being lost. _Confused_.

The mother was not far behind with smaller, more quiet tears. The woman tucked her daughter under her chin safely, wanting to feel more at ease for not only herself but her daughter. Her daughter continued wailing, fat tears rolling down her tan cheeks, and her arms desperately clinging to her mother in an attempt to hold onto her own sanity.

The whole past group slumped helplessly, not knowing what to do. _What can they do?_ They couldn’t comfort, reassure, or investigate her in an attempt to save the timeline. Tim squeezed his eyes tightly. _When are we, anyways?_

“M..am...a,” the daughter choke out helplessly against her mother’s torso.

The mother kissed her daughter’s black hairline, petting the thick hair softly, then murmured a reassuring, “I’m here, A’ma. We’re all here.”

Oh.

_Oh, God. No._

_Please let this be a different timeline. God isn’t this cruel._

Tim frantically checked his wrist computer, trying to look for any indication that they crossed dimensions by accident. His tears almost blurred his vision, but he could clearly see that no...they hadn’t.

When everyone else looked at him expectantly, he shook his head once. Everyone retracted, except for Bruce.

Bruce had been fully aware of A’ma’s trauma—Damian and Mar’i had informed him. But the dread still settled dangerously in his stomach when he heard the wails of his granddaughter.

Mar’i fell to the ground, barely able to control and quiet her sobs; and Damian paced to the wall and slammed his forehead against it in a fit of anger. Then Tim took a step back and realized: _Grandmother_. Babs sure as hell didn’t _rape_ _her granddaughter_ , so it had to be Talia.

A’ma couldn’t face her father after it, too, the resemblance too strong...too taunting.

A’ma faced her fucking abuser. That’s why her parents didn’t want her to go on the mission in the first place.

_A’ma faced her fucking abuser! And shot her in the fucking face!_

Bruce looked worse for wear, his shoulders slumped and no longer crouched, instead fully sitting on the floor of their little closet.

The two ladies’ sobs continued for a few minutes, reflecting the past group’s own emotions. But they waned. Then they heard footsteps coming from the showers. They were hesitant and slow, undoubtedly the future Damian’s footsteps.

The whole family looked up from their gloomy positions. Cass was still peering at the scene, obviously affected yet remaining intact and sane. Her nose appeared red and her eyes were continuously blinking in order to lessen the rising tears.

Damian shakily kneeled down to his daughter’s level on the table, tears evident in his guilty eyes.

His mouth opened once...no sound came out, then he closed it. That happened three times in succession. Then the words finally came in his horse, baritone voice. “I am so sorry.”

The daughter, which was detangled from her mother before her father started speaking, began wailing again. This lasted a few minutes, Damian apparently not knowing what to do. He looked like he wanted to alleviate his daughter’s pain, but he knew he shouldn’t touch her. Mar’i began stroking her daughter’s hair again, silent tears rolling down her cheeks.

It was 253 seconds before the girl spoke.

She still wasn’t looking directly at him. “It’s not your fault.”

That sent him over the edge. His chest heaved with continuous tears pouring out his green eyes. Green eyes which he passed onto his daughter. Green eyes which he inherited from his mother. If he were standing his knees would’ve given out. His daughter’s hands were then under her thighs securely, but her words said something otherwise. “When you found me at the base and those men were...” A’ma wrapped her arms around herself and looked at the floor blankly, tears seemingly unable to come up anymore. She continued on after taking a deep breath. “You beat them. You didn’t hurt me. She hurt me. She let them hurt me.”

The fact that A’ma couldn’t say Talia’s name broke Dick’s heart, and he didn’t doubt that it broke everyone else’s too. Jason and Steph looked absolutely wrecked, Damian and Mar’i were comforting each other in the corner, Tim had his arms wrapped around himself, Bruce was lying still on the floor (thinking), Cass was still looking at the heartbreaking scene, and Dick was...well, Dick was just standing there. He had tears in his eyes, and even though he’s seen this too many times—experienced this once himself—he’s always so moved by these things.

That’s my grandbaby, Dick thought to himself, a realization settling within him.

_That’s my grandbaby_.

His bright eyes darkened, and his lips pursed, almost disappearing. Dick clenched his fists at his sides, struggling to contain his emotions that he had so desperately been trying to push down.

The waves of fury began to pulse through his veins. The type of fury that left a roaring sensation in the back of your ears. The type of fury that made his vision display red film over it. _The type of fury that you could never really forget._

He turned to Bruce. ‘We’re moving out. Now,’ he signed to the Bat angrily. The man nodded once, then got up from his position, mission mode back in. Besides being uncharacteristically out of his head in a mission, Bruce was able to adjust and take the lead quickly.

He signed to everyone that they were to leave soon, and seven of them congregated in a tight, small circle with each person touching one another in some way. Mar’i was still obviously heaving with sobs. Batman then took out the device.

Cass, who was still focused on the scene, snapped her head to her family when she noticed them staring at her for her to join them. She walked over to them, placed her hand on Bruce’s shoulder, then nodded.

Batman adjusted the device, and they were gone in a flash.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you like it? A’ma trauma may seem kinda ambiguous right now, but I have an entire side story based on the event. It’s already written and edited, but I just don’t know when I should drop it.
> 
> I hope you all have an absolutely amazing day! All love <3


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I’m back with the second to last chapter. As I wrap up this story, I would like to say that I’m so thankful for everyone who was read, commented, subscribed, etc. This has been a journey for me—it’s helped me improve my writing style and also helped me with my personal issues. Again, this is not the last chapter, but I would just like to say thank you. Thank you for being kind, patient, and just there. Anyway, there’s a few mentions of secs in this chapt. It’s not NSFW, but there’s a couple mentions. 
> 
> I hope you enjoy the chapter and I’ll see ya’ll at the bottom!

After the group landed, they noticed a couple things at first. 

One: there was a lot of hurried talking, including a woman grunting. Almost as if she were injured. 

And two: they were in the same place as before, but not the same time.

Jason groaned, his insides queasy and his impatience waning. The emotional experience they all just had was a complete juxtaposition to this excited, hurried atmosphere.

Mar’i rushed to to look outside the doorway again, but immediately retracted, looking spooked but not outright scared. Dick furrowed his brows. His previous anger was then gone, but confusion and concern washed over him like a silky waterfall.

He turned his attentions to the doorway as well and the sight surprised him, to be frank. A sweaty black-haired woman was concentrated on laboring a baby while her husband—they both had shimmering wedding rings that glimmered on their left ring fingers—was wiping her forehead with a wet cloth.

Dick could only guess this was Mar’i, as when the woman opened her eyes to take a big gulping breath she revealed green pupil-less eyes. Dick’s breath caught in his throat. _Why are they seeing all of this? Is something wrong with the machine?_ Then the hero shook his head, trying to rid himself of this Bruce-like thoughts. He should just appreciate that he was able to see these scenes at all.

Dick turned back to his old mentor, whose eyebrows were raised in question. ‘She’s giving birth,’ Dick signed to Batman.

Bruce clenched his jaw, then nodded. Apparently he already knew the ‘she’. The other members of the group noticed Dick’s signing and Steph furrowed her brows in confusion. ‘Who?’ Stephanie signed.

Another grunt and push, then a crack. They all winced in sympathy. Mar’i turned to Damian, then mouthed ‘Sorry.’ Stephanie remained silent when she caught onto who was currently giving birth. Damian just clenched his jaw, not-too-unlike his father.

A few minutes passed of more pushing, then future Mar’i’s grunts turned into yells. Past Mar’i flinched away from each yelp of pain and push. They could faintly hear future Damian murmuring encouragements despite his undoubtably broken, throbbing hand that was still in Mar’i’s intact one. They could also barely decipher the doctor, a woman they didn’t know, calmly telling Damian and Mar’i what to do and what was going on.

Steph tried to sneak a peek at the scene, and Tim joined her. Of course, the man immediately retracted and pursed his lips (the germaphobe that he was), but Steph stood there watched the scene. Cass was just listening, unlike the last time.

Then they heard Mar’i sigh tiredly, then a baby’s wails a moment later. Steph’s face lit up, as did Dick’s. “It’s a boy!” The doctor proclaimed while shifting the baby on his mother’s stomach so Mar’i could peek at him.

After a few moments, the doctor then took the baby off his mother’s torso so she could clean him. The two parents were still holding onto each other tightly, looking for any sight of their small son. _Their precious son. Their Ry’an._

“Gonna come cut the cord, daddy?” The doctor asked in an almost teasing manner. Damian looked back down to his wife, his attention briefly broken away from his son, then kissed her sweetly.

Letting go of his hand (softly, she didn’t want to damage it any more), she watched him walk across their little ‘room’ to cut their son’s umbilical cord. Her eyes shined with tears and pride and her hands twitched with the urge to hold her baby.

Damian snipped the cord, looking down at his son with pride and love, then the doctor began doing the measurements. Damian walked back over to his wife, a small smile evident on his expression and a wide grin on her’s. “I’m sorry I broke your hand.” Mar’i barely looked embarrassed, though, with the grin stretching across her face.

And yet Damian didn’t mind. Damian just smiled wider, pride shining in his eyes at his strong partner. “I don’t mind. I can always fix a broken hand.” He then walked over to a cabinet and brought out some tape. This can do for now. Damian knew that tape was less than adequate to fix a broken hand, but he was not going to leave the room to get a cast when he could miss the first time his wife holds his son. He didn’t miss that with A’ma, and he wouldn’t miss that with Ry’an.

By then the whole past family was watching from the doorway raptly, their disgust or surprise replaced with...something domestic. Past Damian shook his head at that thought. That could never happen to him.

_It’s right in front of you, you stupid boy_ , a voice spat at him in his head. Damian looked down at the ground, deftly avoiding his Mar’i’s gaze. Evidently, something domestic was in his future. Him avoiding those thoughts at this point was him simply being illogical, as the older version of himself told them.

The doctor was suddenly done with taking the measurements and recording them, so she wrapped the baby in a comfy purple blanket. The blanket covered their audience’s view of the baby, but they didn’t doubt the baby was beautiful if the faces of their parents were at all telling. When the doctor carefully placed Ry’an in Mar’i’s waiting arms, small yet happy tears began running down her face.

Damian was finished with his wrapping and watching the mother-son duo in rapt attention with soft, loving eyes. He strode to his wife’s side and kissed her hairline, murmuring something the past group couldn’t quite decipher.

_I deserve this_ , Past Damian realized as he observed the family from afar. _I deserve to have what I’ve fought for—something not determined nor controlled by neither Father nor Mother._

The baby cooed and reached for his parents with his tiny hands. Damian put his finger down for his son to grab, and the baby did so. “Strong.” Damian muttered shortly while Mar’i laughed wetly and stroked her son’s soft cheek.

The doctor cleared her throat, grabbing only Damian’s attention. “Should I bring the grandparents in?”

Damian nodded a few times, turning his attention back down to his son. “Please, Patricia.”

“Patty, Mister Wayne.” The doctor gave him one raised eyebrow, then proceeded outside the curtain to call on the grandparents.

Everyone in the doorframe retracted a bit in order to remain hidden, then glanced at each other. _I want to stay_ , Bruce thought to himself. He wanted-needed to know if things turned out domestic. If Mar’i and Damian’s relationship truly shakes the whole family in the way he observed in the future. He hated false hope, and by seeing the scene with himself and Dick and (maybe) Barbara being horribly cute he could see if he should believe in that hope of domesticity. 

_I deserve this._

Jason moved to the center of the room again where they previously traveled through time, then he was stopped by Bruce’s firm hand. The old man was watching the scene was rapt attention. Jason raised his eyebrows. _Huh_.

Then the future Dick Grayson burst into the room wheeling in his wife, Bruce Wayne trailing behind them. Mar’i finally looked up at her dad and stepmom with a wide grin still adorning her shining face. Damian looked up to his father with a questioning glance, “Where’s Selina?”

Bruce pursed his lips. “She insisted that she wait outside.” Tim blinked slowly, then smirked to himself. Of course they got married. They’ve been chasing after each other for years—decades.

Future Mar’i just gave future Bruce a blank stare and pointed to the curtain, silently telling him to get his wife and bring her in the room to meet her grandson. Bruce complied with a chuckle and shake of his head. Future Dick didn’t bother waiting for Bruce to coerce Selina to join them and instead jumped at the opportunity to hold his first grandson.

The man scooped up Ry’an, cooing at the baby all while a grin shone on his face. Barbara looked up at her husband lovingly from her chair. She remembered having John and Dick being so emotional and loving and patient as a parent, and wished she could live those small moments again.

Dick bent down so Barbara could see her grandson, and the red-haired woman reached out to cup the baby’s chubby cheek. The baby responded by gurgling happily and smiling.

The whole past group looked on the scene with tilted heads and content smiles on their faces.

Then Bruce entered again with a huffing Selina on his tail. They could faintly hear her muttering about them, ‘only being married for a year...’

Past Dick furrowed his eyebrows. _Why would it take them so damn long to get married? I guess only time will tell_ , the little voice in the back of his head quipped. Dick almost began cackling. _Time will tell._

Selina’s posture changed slightly when she saw the baby in Dick’s arms, as did Bruce’s. After some more short moments of bonding between Barbara, Dick, and Ry’an, Dick turned to Bruce with the baby still in his arms.

The older man looked almost hilariously scared. “Didn’t you hold A’ma when she was first born?” Selina interrogated her husband with a tilted head. When her partner didn’t say anything, Selina turned to Mar’i, who just nodded with a small smirk on her face.

Bruce sighed, then held out his hands for the baby. The audience could tell the man’s hands were weak and soft despite the decades that made them otherwise, but decided not to comment. Bruce then cupped the baby’s neck and bottom, a small smile blossoming on his face. Selina softly leaned her head against his tense shoulder in order to see the new addition to the family.

The baby cooed and awed, reaching for his grandpa. Selina let out her finger for the baby to grasp, and grasp he did. She retracted her finger immediately with some resistance. “I guess we already know the kid has powers,” Selina declared while wiggling her finger to somehow lessen the pain in it.

Future Mar’i giggled, while Damian chuckled.

_I deserve this._

Bruce retracted his head from the scene, obviously having seen enough. Now he knows for sure. ‘Let’s head out,’ he signed to the group. Mar’i, Dick, and, surprisingly, Damian were fully immersed in the scene, but Cass tapped them on the shoulder to signify they were leaving.

Jason rolled his eyes, then whispered, “We can finally leave, old man?”

Mar’i blinked slowly, a bright smile slowly forming on her countenance. Their whole atmosphere would be so domestic and peaceful, something the whole Batfamily hasn’t experienced in years—and if not, decades. Then she frowned. _How could Talia ruin their family? Did she lack that much empathy?_

She shook her head, making her wavy raven locks swing back and forth, and turned her body to her present family. They were now all standing in a circle, waiting for her to join them. Damian was staring at her intensely, his gaze holding something she couldn’t decipher.

_I deserve this happiness. At least, now._

Then she paced over to the group, holding her hand out for her dad to grab. He grasped it tightly, almost reassuringly, then they left again in a flash.

* * *

They could tell by child-like giggling that they _still weren’t in their correct time. What the hell._

Jason growled low, as did Damian. Did they calibrate the machine to do this? Cass and Steph, as usual, peered outside the doorway to see what was going on. Steph’s face brightened when she saw the scene.

There, Charlie was playing the game “Lemonade” with Atalaya (in their native languages, although it was difficult), the two children smiling as bright as the damn sun. Steph aggressively waved to the others in order to beckon them, not even bothering to look away from the adorable sight.

Mar’i, Dick, Tim, and Cass all rushed to the doorway to peek at the two children, and all cooed at the scene. Charlie appeared to be about eight years old, while Ata seemed to be around six. The two children had finished their hand game, and Atalaya seemed slightly new to the cave as she looked around confusedly at it. The costumes, old and new, had been in their proper cases, encased in darkness so the children were unable to distinguish what was in each case. 

“¿Cómo se dice ese? (How do you say that?)” Ata pointed to the large computer. “Hablamos la computadora. (We say computer.)”

Charlie blinked a couple of times while listening to her words. They could practically see the gears turning in his head while he translated her words to English. “Oh!” He perked up when he finished translating in his head. “Computer! We say computer in English!”

She then blinked slowly. “Computer?” She rolled the words around in her mouth, trying to get used to the feeling.

His smile didn’t fade with her chopped pronunciation. “You make an ‘O’ with your mouth when you say it,” the boy informed her. “Watch. Computer.” Charlie made sure to exaggerate the ‘O’, then nodded his head, as if he were greatly proud of himself.

“Computer,” Ata said with obvious effort.

Charlie’s smile grew to a grin. “Yeah! That sounds perfect!” He paused. “You sure are a great learner.”

Atalaya perked up as well. “¡Muchas gracias!” She paused, calculating her next words. “You are a good teacher.”

His blue eyes lit up with pride. “Well, ¡gracias!”

She pursed her lips, attempting to conceal her snicker. “Gracias,” she corrected his pronunciation, rolling her ‘R’ a bit and putting little emphasis on the ‘I’.

His smile turned to a concentrated expression. “Gracias?” His attempt was decent by the look on Atalaya’s face. Her lips had a small upturn and her amber eyes shined with something he couldn’t quite place.

“Sí, perfecto,” she said.

Stephanie and Mar’i looked at each other, then simultaneously began whispering to each other in short phrases that only served to coo at their future children. Tim simply blinked, while Damian furrowed his brows at the unusual sight.

Then the past group heard distinct walking down the stairs; they sounded like two sets of footfalls. Mar’i and Steph stopped talking to each other to peek out the doorway, Dick and Cass not too far behind. Tim, Jason, Damian, and Bruce were at a distance where they could see the scene, but not so up close.

Future Mar’i was walking down with Damian, a bump prominent on the young woman’s stomach. She seemed past half-way through her second pregnancy. The couple walked up to the children, both obviously nervous. Mar’i was biting her lip harshly while Damian’s shoulders were more than a little tense.

Both kids turned their head to the adults, eyes wide and wondering. Charlie was the first to greet them, “Hi Mar and Damian!”

Mar’i placed a smile on her expression, “Hello, Charlie. Atalaya, Damian, and I need to talk to each other. Can you give us a little privacy please?” She was back to biting her bottom lip.

Charlie immediately got up. “Sure thing, Auntie.” He paused. “¡Hasta luego, Atalaya!” Atalaya returned his goodbye with a sweet smile.

Now in Atalaya’s native tongue, the two parents began speaking to the young girl. Mar’i was the first to speak, “ _Atalaya, I understand how you feel right now._ ” The child remained sitting on the floor and just lowered her head. _Defensive_. “ _My momma died too_.”

Atalaya’s head rose after a moment of silence. “ _What about the lady in the wheelchair?_ ”

Mar’i shook her head. “ _That’s my step-momma,_ ” she explained.

Atalaya nodded in understanding. “ _I don’t want to go back to the orphanage_ ,” she stated suddenly.

“ _We’re not taking you back there_ ,” Damian affirmed. Atalaya’s eyes found his, and his dark green eyes immediately softened.

“ _Thank you_ ,” Atalaya said, feeling choked up. 

There was a short pause in which the whole past group looked at one another, wondering if it was time to go. They were interrupted with future Mar’i speaking. “ _If it’s okay_...” Mar’i gulped nervously. “ _We were hoping we could give you a home_.”

The past group could see the gears turning in Atalaya’s head, trying to process the request. “ _What do you mean?_ ”

Damian sighed. “ _We wanted to have your blessing to adopt you._ ” His blunt statement made Atalaya’s eyes widen and her mouth fall open. He continued, “ _We wanted your full consent before we signed any papers_.”

Atalaya closed her mouth suddenly.

“ _Why would you want to adopt me?_ ” She asked with hesitance laced in her voice.

Mar’i’s hands rested on her stomach as she looked to her right at her husband. She raised her eyebrows, then tilted her head towards the little girl, as if to convey a silent demand. Damian closed his eyes for a moment, before saying, “ _I am Batman_.”

Atalaya’s eyes widened to the size of dinner plates. “ _What the he_ -“

“ _Atalaya_ ,” Mar’i said, her name washing over the young girl like a refreshing ocean wave—in a way so much like Kori had calmed her in moments of despair or shock. “ _You cannot tell anyone about this_.”

Atalaya jerked her head upward. “ _I wouldn’t tell anyone about that. You save people_.” Her lower lip quivered. “ _You saved me_.”

There was a moment of silence, in which Damian considered his words. What had happened, hadn’t been addressed much since Atalaya had been picked up from the orphanage. Many of that was due to Damian’s guilt, which seemed to keep rising as more time went by and the more he refused to address it. “ _I am so sorry I wasn’t able to save your mother, Atalaya_ ,” he admitted, ashamed of himself. 

His words broke something within her. So much had happened in the last few months, and only now was she feeling the consequences. Her eyes suddenly sprouted continuous tears and her chest heaved dangerously. Mar’i and Damian knelt down to her height; Mar’i pulled Atalaya to her chest protectively. After a few minutes, the child muttered, “ _I-I know you can’t save everyone Mr. Wayne_.”

Damian furrowed his eyebrows sadly. He didn’t say anything more. He couldn’t.

Mar’i shushed the child in a consoling manner, trying to give Atalaya any support she needed. After a few moment of only sniffling passed, Mar’i decided to restate her previous deceleration. “ _Just know, Atalaya, that I partially know how you feel. You can always come to me and Damian if you need any help._ ” There was a short pause. “ _That is, if you still want to be adopted by us._..” The pregnant woman trailed off, not knowing what else to say.

Everyone in the cave could see Atalaya thinking sadly—most likely thinking of what could have been if her mother had lived. Tears were once again streaming down her face, but she herself remained silent. Hiccups made Ata’s chest cave in sporadically, a hallow, yet heavy feeling forming within.

“ _I want to be adopted_.”

The words knocked air out of the whole past group and the future group. Mar’i nodded quickly, happily, as a genuine smile was beginning to bloom upon her face. Damian’s lips upturned happily, as though his previous guilt had dissolved with that one sentence. “ _I don’t want a new mama, though_.”

Her statement didn’t wipe the smile from Mar’i’s face. Mar’i knew it would come. “ _I know, Atalaya. I don’t want to be your old mom. I just want to be a second mom. I promise I won’t try to replace your old one, cariña_.”

Atalaya bit her lip for a moment, then nodded. Tears began falling down her dark cheeks again. Mar’i pulled the little girl in for an embrace, faint tears forming in her pupil-less as well. Damian, still squatted, hesitantly started stroking his new daughter’s light hair. He had learned that women of all kind love their hair being smoothed down, so he wasn’t very surprised when Atalaya leaned into his touch. But that didn’t mean it didn’t affect him.

The whole past group pulled back from the scene, smiles on all their faces. They didn’t need to sign to each other, and instead all just nodded to one another and walked to the center of the room.

They were gone in a blast of light.

* * *

This time, they all landed in a heap, piled atop one another. They all groaned quietly. What a way to make an entrance. Tim, who landed on top of everyone, immediately got up and peered outside the doorway to see if they were in their correct time.

When the rest of the group got up and were looking at him expectantly, he just shifted his attention back to them and shook his head. He turned his head back to the scene.

_This had be planned. Or some weird blessing from the universe._

He could see Future Stephanie and Mar’i talking privately; he could recognize his partner’s looks anywhere and Mar’i seemed to be in every time period when they stopped.

Tim blinked again when he saw the giant bulge sprouting from Stephanie’s midriff. “What the fu...” he trailed off, not even wanting to finish his sentence.

She was very... _very_ pregnant.

The rest of the group (well, Dick, Cass, Jason, Mar’i, and Steph) all moved near the doorway to look upon the scene. Stephanie’s eyes widened immediately after she saw her own stomach.

“Woah,” Steph marveled to herself quietly. No doubt she was thinking about her first child she had put up for adoption. The blonde woman broke her attention briefly to look at Tim, but only found him looking directly at her. They both pushed their looks to the scene again.

With their full focus on the two women, they were now able to focus enough on their conversation.

“...they’re hurting a-“ Future Stephanie shuttered involuntarily, then took a deep breath, “bit, but not too much, ya’ know?” Her hands were laid over her stretched stomach in a motherly manner.

Mar’i looked down. “No. Not yet.”

Steph’s eyes went downcast. “Does Damian know?”

Mar’i’s head snapped upward, her pupil-less eyes wide and searching, “Know what?” The panic in her voice was not unnoticed.

The pregnant woman looked taken aback. “That your chances of getting...” she bit her lip and tilted her head downward at her own stomach, “ _ya’ know_ , are really low.”

Mar’i suddenly bit her lip and looked to her right, a blush forming on her tan cheeks. “Yeah. He-he definitely knows...”

Steph blinked once, then nodded her head slowly. “Okay.” She continued her nodding, then understanding dawned on her face. “ _Oh_ ,” she breathed out, her blue eyes wide.

Mar’i looked down, ashamed. “Yeah,” she replied breathily.

Past Mar’i turned to her father with furrowed brows. ‘I don’t understand,’ she signed.

Her father audibly swallowed. ‘It’s fine. Don’t worry about it,’ he signed just as Future Mar’i began speaking again in a hesitant, apprehensive voice.

“Because we don’t use condoms, I think I’m pregnant.”

Past Damian, not doing much observing and instead listening, started choking on his own spit due to shock at the statement. Thankfully, he was able to stop the choking and put his hand to his mouth. Mar’i’s, not doing too well either, jaw dropped low and she put both her hands over her stomach.

Bruce was grimacing, Dick was visibly disgusted, Tim was trying to get the mental image out of his head, Jason and Steph were taken aback, and Cass was just silent and _still_.

“Mar’i...” there was a long pause in which Future Stephanie didn’t say anything. Whether that be from a contraction or just shock, the group couldn’t know. “ _What!?_ ”

Past Dick turned to his daughter, expression set to a grimace. ‘Do you now understand why I said what I said?’ He signed frustratedly.

Mar’i rolled her eyes. ‘That doesn’t mean you should micro-manage my life. A’ma is a good daughter,’ she signed back, her hands quick and sharp.

Dick sighed tiredly, feeling defeated. ‘You’re right, but I want the best for you,’ Dick replied. Mar’i huffed through her nose humorlessly, then bit her lip.

_Prove to him you’re the woman you become._ ‘I know. I’m sorry,’ she signed, shocking her dad. Before he could reply, she returned her attention back to the scene.

Future Mar’i winced and audibly swallowed. “I know. I’m so sorry. We were-we were stupid in thinking that I could never get pregnant and I just don’t know what to do. I mean I should be happy but we’re not even married and I’m not supposed to be a mom. I don’t even have a mom any-“ She was cut off by the older woman.

“Mar’i.” Stephanie’s tone was now soft and understanding. “You’re 23.” Mar’i’s lower lip trembled. “It’s okay to be worried. You’re still young, but I was _so_ much younger than you when I had her.” Mar’i took in a deep breath. “You have such a great support system. You live in an amazing home and you’ve been with Damian for forever. I wish I had that when I had her.” Steph’s gaze was unnerving, determined.

Mar’i began sobbing. “I’m so-so sorry, Steph.”

Stephanie took a deep breath, tears welling up in her eyes. “It’s okay. It’ll be-ee oka-ay.” Her stuttering caught the young woman by attention. Mar’i looked back up at Steph, then grabbed her tense hand.

“Breathe,” she said as she took rhythmic, deep breaths for the women to take together. Steph’s contraction ended after a few moments, so she let go of Mar’i’s hand after squeezing it to death. Thankfully, Mar’i hadn’t felt it much anyways.

“Are you positive?” Stephanie asked, whilst placing her hands on her stomach.

“...about the-“ Mar’i inhaled intensely. “About the pregnant part?” Steph nodded. “Yeah,” Mar’i breathed.

Steph’s lips upturned. “Okay. Cool. Dami will be super excited,” she assured the half-alien.

Mar’i’s red-laced eyes glimmered at the mention of her baby’s father. “You really think so?” A desperate tone was laced in her voice.

Steph was grinning tiredly, now. “Definitely.”

The past group’s observations were interrupted when they all heard a loud crashing of bodies to the floor behind them. The group of fighters immediately went into action.

One of the bodies was built; wide yet lean. They could guess this was a man. Another body was more curved yet lean, and they could estimate this was a woman. The third body was curvy and muscled, but they could see the height was the shortest of the three; this was definitely a woman.

The taller woman sprung up immediately, revealing her suit. It was all black with a dark grey bat symbol lying atop her chest. A cowl covered the top half of her face completely, but her black hair remained flowing down onto her mid-back.

She was obviously a Bat, physically.

The man slowly got up, with grace and showmanship that only few people possessed. He was wearing the Robin suit, which had surprisingly not changed much throughout the years. His hair was dark, spiked and lacked the traditional yellow Robin cape. The man-no, boy looked at his partners to see if they were decent.

The much smaller woman got up slower, rougher. When she reached her full height—which wasn’t much to be quite honest—she brushed off some pretend dirt. Her suit was the most different from the bunch; she had black pants and a black top, but a dark purple cape along with the same colored mask. Her light brown hair lay in a ponytail high atop her head.

The main Bat nodded at her partner, who nodded back silently. She turned to the smaller girl, who then nodded.

Black Bat, whose attention was still focused on the Future Stephanie and Mar’i, didn’t care much for the visitors. The middle one was deadly, but hadn’t done anything yet. Cass could read they had no intentions of harm.

Future Steph suddenly doubled over, interrupting her own conversation. Mar’i immediately sprung into action. “We need to get you to Tim.”

Past Tim involuntarily jerked his head to whomever called his attention, then he shook his head when he realized who was actually talking.

Future Steph started nodding incessantly. “Right. Okay. Yeah. C’mon.” Mar’i supportively got her friend up from her struggle, then proceeded to lead her upstairs.

The cave was now empty.

Black Bat turned her attention back to the new visitors. “-the hell are you!?” She could hear Jason whisper-yell.

Cass blinked. Maybe she should tell them the cave was empty. _Actually...no. That would only end in screaming_. The main Bat didn’t seem fazed by the man. “We’re from the future. We’re sent to help you back to your time.”

Bruce clenched his jaw. Something didn’t seem right. These people were familiar. Tim, Damian, and Dick seemed suspicious of the people as well.

The short woman noticed the shift in suspicion. “Don’t worry, you can trust us.” She gave them all a sweet smile. “If we needed to hurt you, we would’ve done it already,” she said sweetly, almost sarcastically. 

Dick’s expression and voice inflection suddenly changed. “Wait, should we be talking? Are they still here-?”

His whispering was brought to an end when Stephanie, who was peering outside the doorway precariously, simply stated, “Nope.” Cass shook her head disappointedly. _Should have told them yes._

Tim decided to lead the conversation back to where it was supposed to be. “Who are you, really?” Tim questioned.

Robin bit his lip nervously, looking expectantly at the main Bat for a moment. After a moment of her thinking, he gave up waiting for her to deliberate. “We know everyone in this room. We’ve met you all.”

Damian’s eyes narrowed at the so revealing, yet so hidden answer. “When did we meet you three? Because I think I would remember a fake Bat.” His snide comment seemed to not affect the group too much, for they remained still.

“You met us after you left 2012 and entered 2034,” the Bat-woman stated bluntly, deciding her deliberations were no longer worth it.

Mar’i gasped, the reality sinking in.

“Holy _shit_.”

“Mar’i!”

“No, Dad! You don’t understand! They’re-“

“Your kids.” Bruce finished gruffly, realization dawning on him.

The whole past group’s attention shifted to the three people, wide-eyed. Robin-Ry’an, they guessed, just pursed his lips awkwardly and began rolling on the balls of his feet. After a few minutes of just staring at the group of three, the young man cracked.

“O-kay!” He clapped loudly in order to break their attention. “We need to get going!” The whole past group blinked stupidly after he said this, Bruce included. “We need to get you back to your time,” he explained.

They all nodded slowly.

“Cool.” Steph commented. Then, slowly, but surely, they all began shifting their way to the center of the room where they formed a circle.

Mar’i stood at one end of the siblings, while Damian stood at the other end to connect to his own father.

A’ma, wearing the Batsuit, stood between her siblings while fidgeting with the device in her hands. Eventually, she looked back up and looked around the circle. She swallowed audibly. “Ready, everyone?” Everyone suddenly let out a breath they didn’t know they were holding in.

They all nodded, then A’ma pressed a button.

The two groups disappeared in a bright flash.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you like it? 
> 
> The next (and last!) chapter will be posted soon, so be ready!


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! This is the last chapter ;-; Yes, I’m very sad and I only cried once while finishing this...I would like to say once again that I’m incredibly thankful for everyone that has left me any kind of support. 
> 
> I’m not finished with this universe. Not by a long shot. This story, however, is officially done. Again, thank you all. <3
> 
> I hope you all enjoy the final chapter.

The two groups landed in a more graceful manner than last time.

A’ma immediately spoke up before anyone could question when they were. “We’re in 2005.” Everyone’s heads snapped to her in a fit of frustration or confusion. “Grandpa Dick informed the three of us that we  needed  to be in this time period before we put you all in your proper time period,” A’ma explained. 

Dick blinked confusedly. “Why-why did I say that?” He asked, slightly frustrated. 

Atalaya took a deep breath, then answered, “We don’t know. You wouldn’t tell us even after we kept asking.” It was clear she herself had no explanation and was annoyed by the lack of answers. 

Damian furrowed his brows, thinking intensely. “What is the date?” 

“June 6th,” Ry’an told him. There was a short pause, then Ry’an’s curiosity cracked. “Why?” The young man drawled out the last letter out a bit of a funny manner. 

Mar’i slapped her forehead. ”Right!” The rest of the group shifted their attention to the alien girl. Bruce glared directly at her, silently telling her to say something. “This was when I first came to the manor and met Damian!”

Tim furrowed his brows. “That doesn’t make any sense of why we’re here, Mar’i.” 

Dick interrupted his daughter. “I remember there being a crash in the hallway, and when I went to see what happened, no one was there. Alfred had said that he did it, but it didn’t seem like he did,” he insinuated. 

A’ma’s eyes widened, comprehending what Dick was putting down. “You think that was us?” She pointed to herself and her siblings. 

“I think we need to check the cameras to see if the past Demon and Mar’i are here yet,” Jason interjected.

Cass bit her lip shortly before she began walking her way to the Batcomputer, her injury barely perceptible. Her typing, although almost silent, made everyone else turn to her. After a few more seconds of typing, she pulled up three separate camera angles of the dining room, living room, and driveway. Cass dropped her arms back to her sides and focused her attention on the mammoth screen in front of her. 

Mar’i held her breath when she recognized her own smaller, younger form on the screen displaying the driveway. She could see herself talking excitedly with her dad, which she still remembers vividly to this day. 

As she expected (as did Dick), her younger father suddenly knelt down in front of her and began talking quietly to Mar’i. Mar’i remembers how he told her she was going to meet a grandfather figure and a young boy. She was more than excited to know  someone  from her father’s family because she was so tired of being the  secret. _The mistake_. 

A’ma, Ry’an, and Atalaya all glanced at each other through their peripherals. “ _Do you really think we are supposed to do this?_ ” Ry’an questioned in Arabic. 

Atalaya, after a few seconds of translating, finally said, “ _Yes, Ry. Grandfather said that we needed to be here_. ” 

A’ma furrowed her eyebrows. “ _They were supposed to take a pill to suppress their memories of this event, however. He would not remember._ ” Her counter argument was logical, but she provided no further explanation to how their grandpa knew they were needed there. 

“ _Maybe the pill’s effectiveness wears off as years pass by?_ ” Ry’an supplied, although that didn’t seem to satisfy either of his sisters. 

A’ma shook her head. “ _No, that cannot be it_.” Her eye glazed over as she thought. “ _Perhaps an event triggered his memories?_ ” 

Both Atalaya and Ry’an seemed to ponder this explanation. “Quizá...” Atalaya said after a moment of pondering. 

Damian furrowed his brows. Of course, he was listening in on their conversation so he was thinking of a plausible explanation as well. A’ma’s explanation seemed the most logical. An event may have triggered an emotion so strong that it connected that emotion to one that Dick experienced in the kid’s future. 

“ _Grayson has always been known for his incessant feeling,_ ” Damian added without their permission. All of his future children turned their heads to him, which only made him clench his jaw self-consciously. 

“ _What do you mean?_ ” Atalaya asked in Arabic, confused and not understanding his line of logic. 

“ _What I mean, is that Grayson most likely felt an intense emotion in the future, took the pill, then an event triggered the same intense emotion, so he remembered the original event_ ,” Damian elaborated. 

Atalaya nodded quickly. “ _Right_ .” Then she blinked. “That makes so much sense!” She cheered in English, getting everyone else’s attention. “Shit- lo siento.” Atalaya muttered to herself, embarrassed. 

Ry’an smirked at his sister and snorted. “Younger Dick and Mar’i are about to enter the manor. You three need to start moving upstairs,” Bruce informed his grandchildren. They all glanced at each other; Ry’an shrugged hesitantly, Atalaya bit her bottom lip, and A’ma’s jaw was wound tightly. 

“Okay,” A’ma said after a short moment. “Let’s head out.” 

Ry’an rolled his eyes behind his lenses. “A’ma, it’s not like this is a mission. We’re just knocking something over to get their attention, then retreating back down here. Not too hard? Right?” He looked at the rest of the group. They all looked back at him uncertainly. “ _Right_ ,” he muttered worriedly under his breath. 

Dick looked at all of them worriedly, then said, “Just don’t make any other noise,” he paused, his expression contorting to a grimace, “please.” 

“Do not get distracted,” Bruce told them firmly. They all nodded, then started jogging upstairs. 

Dick sighed when he saw that they were all out of his sight. “This is  so _weird_ ,” he commented absentmindedly. 

Tim and Steph nodded, both sets of eyes glazed over, while Jason said, “Yeah. This is fucking insane.” He paused. “I’m gettin’ a headache thinking of this time travel shit...” 

Bruce didn’t comment on anything, instead turning his full attention on the cameras displaying the past version of his son and future daughter-in-law and his future grandchildren. Bruce inwardly groaned. He could feel a headache coming on. 

Damian was staring at the doorway which his children had previously left in. He honestly had no idea what to think. He knew about his future children; he knew he would marry Mar’i; he knew there was bound to be some time travel paradoxes. So he couldn’t feel surprised, shocked.

He had come to the conclusion that he deserved this. He deserved a life that he had built with Mar’i—something he knew his Father would want for him. He deserved to feel happiness that he hadn’t felt in his childhood. He deserved to give that happiness to his own children. 

Mar’i looked at the cameras from her place near Stephanie.  Her children-her _babies_ were crime-fighting badasses.  She honestly knew this would happen, but to truly see it in the suits was breath-taking. No doubt Damian and she would train them to the limit to fully prepare them. 

When she looked forward onto her future, she realized one thing:  _She can do this_. 

She won’t hide her children, like her father did with her for the first few years of her life. She won’t abandon them, like her mother did when she was only nine years old. Damian won’t use them, like his mother did to him for the first eight years of his life. Yes, there will be ups and downs, but the whole family could grow from those. 

The way her children treated her, treated Damian had been telling of how much they all truly trusted, loved, and respected one another. A’ma herself had told Mar’i that she needed to become the woman she knew as her mother in order to fully receive her own father’s respect! All three of them had, quite obviously, learned to grow off one another and trust each other in a way that was foreign to both Mar’i and Damian. 

They will-no, they _do_ feel loved.

* * *

The three Grayson-Wayne children all jogged up stairs and entered the hallway connecting the library to the living room, where their past parents were talking. 

“...you insolent girl!” They could only guess that was the 10-year-old version of their father yelling that. 

“You’re so mean!” Past Mar’i yelled back with a red face.

“Guys!” They could hear their grandpa Dick interrupt their argument. “C’mon. Try to get along!” The three future children could hear the distress in his voice. 

“No, Grayson,” Damian insisted. “Your absolutely horrid daughter does not deserve my respect. If anything, she should bow down to me!” 

Mar’i’s eyes flashed dangerously and the three kids all took a step back. Their mom rarely did that in front of them, but she only did that when she was at her wits end. 

“I refuse to bow to you, you-“ Mar’i’s hair began to catch on fire, “you meanie!” 

“- _tt_ -“

Mar’i launched herself into the young boy, immediately making him topple over. Dick, who had been inwardly debating whether or not to intervene, finally strode over to the two kids and pulled them apart. 

“No!” He said firmly. “Don’t do that again, Mar’i!” Damian smirked when his peer got the blame first, but his smirk was wiped off his face when the next few words came out of his partner’s mouth. “And Dami, you can’t antagonize everyone!” 

Damian looked down with a scowl, while Mar’i pouted.

* * *

Suddenly, there’s a bright flash near Steph that caused her to shield her eyes and flinch away from the source. The source seemed eerily similar to the three kid’s arrivals, but the group still jumped into fighting stances.

The traveler was wearing a Red Robin costume, which was almost completely identical to Tim’s other than a few small modifications, and seemed slightly disoriented. He blinked a few times, looked around lazily, then perked up as a though something in him had switched. 

“Um,” he cleared his throat. “I need to see Atalaya,” he informed them, his words slightly slurred. 

Steph, whose hand was now down at her side, scrutinized the man in front of her. A few seconds after staring at him, it had finally clicked. “Charlie?” She said, disbelieving. 

Charlie turned to look at the Steph, then nodded. “Yeah,” he said shortly. “Sorry, but I need to find Atalaya.” Nobody moved, still trying to intake the information he just spilled. “Right now,” he declared. 

Mar’i, who still held a dazed look in her pupil-less eyes, finally said, monotonously, “She’s upstairs...” 

Charlie looked taken aback. “Why?” He dragged out the last letter in his question. 

“It does not matter, Drake,” Damian, who seemed the most grounded, stated. “If you are so adamant on finding Atalaya, then she should be upstairs. In the main hall outside the living room.” Damian crossed his arms and looked directly at the future traveler. 

“Thanks,” the man muttered confusedly, then began jogging upstairs to the hall connecting the library to the living room. He just reached where his companions were standing when he put his hands on Atalaya’s shoulders.

The girl immediately jumped up in surprise, then turned around and executed a perfect right hook, landing in Charlie’s ribs. The man walked backwards after the punch, slamming his body into a console table with a lamp placed on it. The lamp tipped over and, as if in slow-motion, fell onto the white carpet. 

- _CLANG_ \- 

Ry’an and A’ma looked at Atalaya and Charlie as if they were stupid. 

“What was that?” They heard Past Mar’i inquire, still held back by her father’s hand. 

Atalaya mouthed ‘Sorry!’, then began quickly dragging Charlie down the hall to the cave again. She could see in her peripherals that A’ma and Ry’an were following. 

Out of what seemed to be nowhere, Alfred Pennyworth appeared in front of them from around the corner. He seemed so much younger than from the last few pictures they had seem of him. None of them were even alive when the old man passed, but they four could tell from stories that the butler was an important part of everyone’s lives. Hell, Charlie was named after him. 

Alfred paused in walking, then began scrutinizing them. They all shifted uncomfortably, not knowing what they could do. For all they were told, the old man was perceptive yet sneaky. 

Finally, after a few seconds of staring and scrutinizing, Alfred assured, “No need to worry, young masters. I can tell of your true alliances.” 

Everyone’s eyebrows rose to their hairlines. 

Alfred simply smirked. “Time travel, I assume?” He raised a thin, grey eyebrow. Atalaya dropped Charlie’s hands, then looked at him, as if to look for some explanation as to how this man was so perceptive. “No sane person would dress up as those heroes unless it was passed down upon them,” Alfred explained bluntly. 

Charlie and Atalaya, who still hadn’t broken eye contact, simultaneously snorted. Ry’an smiled, while A’ma tried to hide a smirk. 

Alfred continued, “And no doubt Miss Mar’i and Master Damian would pass on their traits of heroism  and stubbornness.” Everyone’s eyes widened. “I presume I am...gone in your time?” Alfred asked.

A’ma nodded. “Yes. I am sorry.” 

Alfred smiled sadly, “It’s quite alright, Miss. I only hope that the family finds appropriate ways to cope?” 

The butler needed reassurance. “They’re okay. They have each other,” Ry’an assures Alfred. Ry’an pauses, then frowns. “I heard Grandpa Bruce took it the worst, but he has Grandma Selina. And us, now,” Ry’an whispers. 

Something hopeful shines on Alfred’s face. “Pardon me, Sir?” He asked, but was only met with confused glances. “Master Bruce is alive?” Alfred whispers, amazed and happy. 

The siblings all looked at each other. “Y-es,” Atalaya faltered, not knowing why her grandfather wouldn’t be alive. 

Alfred’s smirk is back, which makes the whole group feel slightly uneasy, yet also...happy. They could see why everyone loved this man so much. Alfred turns to Charlie. “Miss Stephanie and Master Timothy?” He raised his right eyebrow again. 

Charlie nods enthusiastically, then pauses. “I was- I was actually named after you,” a small blush begins to form on his cheeks. “That was one of your last wishes, actually.”

Atalaya interrupted Charlie. “They said it didn’t sound like something you would do by yourself. They thought it was odd,” she explained to Alfred. 

Alfred nodded slowly, a thought beginning to form in his mind. “What’s your full name, Sir?” 

“Alfred Charles Drake.” 

Alfred raised his eyes to meet theirs, then smirked. “Very English,” he quipped. “Thank you, Sir. I’ll make sure to put that in my will,” he said. Everyone’s eyes widened, and they all glanced at each other uncertainly. Alfred noticed this. “Don’t worry, young masters. Your secret is safe with me,” he assured them. 

The old man slyly winked, then promptly left down the hallway, grabbing a broom and dustpan on his way out. 

A’ma, Ry’an, Atalaya, and Charlie all just stood there in shock. They couldn’t tell if what had just happened was a dream or reality. 

Either way, they all began running to the iconic clock and put in the time of Bruce Wayne’s parent’s deaths. The doors opened and they all rushed down the steps to the main anatomy of the cave. 

When they finally arrived there, they all looked around; everyone was staring at them as if they had grown three heads each. “That was,” Charlie panted, “fucking insane.” 

Atalaya snorted, then nodded. “De acuerdo.” She paused. “And sorry for punching you...” 

“It’s all good,” Charlie huffed out. 

“That-that was supposed to happen, right?” Ry’an looked expectantly at his parents. 

“Yeah. It was perfect timing,” Mar’i whispered, her eyes wide and body completely still. 

There was a lull in the conversation, everyone wanting to ask a question, but not knowing how to. 

A’ma was the one to speak up. “Was Alfred supposed to know this entire time?” Bruce sucked in a deep breath, then nodded. Everyone turned to him, both curiosity and slight betrayal in their eyes. 

Bruce cleared his throat, then elaborated: “Now looking back on it, Alfred probably knows. He probably did know till the day he,” he clenched his jaw, “died.” 

Tim furrowed his brows. “How did he show that he knew?” He inquired. 

“Yeah,” Jason agreed with Tim. “That man is so fuckin’ secretive.” 

It’s true—Alfred had been like a puzzle for the group of detectives. He was secretive about some of his motives, but not secretive enough that everyone could suspect him of being a keeper of secrets regarding the future. 

Everyone but the future group nodded simultaneously. Bruce cleared his throat again for their attention. “He has encouraged a relationship between Damian and Mar’i on more than one occasion. Has assured me many times when he’s sick that he wouldn’t pass then. Has informed me before that he hopes Tim and Stephanie become better partners. He’s also written his will already, and has a specific section for his legacy.” 

Everyone recoiled. 

From Bruce’s accounts, it seemed more than obvious that Alfred had known the entire time...that there was no need to medicate him. 

“How can we be sure?” Mar’i whispered. 

“This already happened,” Damian said. Everyone turned their attention to him, confused. He clicked his tongue. “The future has already happened with Pennyworth’s knowledge, and we are not in an alternate timeline.” 

Tim, looked at Damian with wide eyes, the implications finally hitting him. 

“But not everything is set in stone, Dami,” Dick sighed. “Time travel is messy,” he muttered tiredly before running his hands through his hair. 

“No,” Tim spoke up. “What Damian means is that... _they’re_ ,” he gesticulated to the four future children, “still here and with intact memories.” Tim paused. “Right?” 

Ry’an nodded. “Yes. I remember everything about my childhood. Including you all visiting us,” he informed Tim. 

“And we’re not in an alternate timeline,” Charlie said defiantly. “I checked. Everything’s intact.” 

“This was supposed to happen,” Atalaya said, awestruck. “Mierda, this is so weird...” she trailed off, not knowing what else to say. 

A moment lingered between the whole group, where no one said anything. The only noise was the clattering of the computer keys as Tim was now trying to erase the footage of them ever being there. 

“We need to get you back to your time,” A’ma stated, looking directly at Bruce. “Can you please ready the technology for your time? You know the date of your departure, yes?” Bruce nodded once, not really paying attention to what the young woman was saying, but trying to memorize his future granddaughter’s features. Point out which were Damian’s and which were Mar’i’s. She was a beautiful combination of them—although she had picked up on more of Damian’s characteristics physically and mentally. Both Damian and A’ma shared the same cheekbones, eye color, nose, and chin. However, she had the same eye shape and smile as her mother. 

A’ma turned away after a moment, then looked at her other grandfather. She blinked a couple of times after truly looking at him. He wasn’t so old and grey, but young and spry. So many of the stories of Dick Grayson finally did him justice when she saw him like this. 

“They said you had the pills,” A’ma said. 

Dick nodded a couple of times, a smile forming on his face, then he took an orange bottle out of his utility belt, then shook it a couple of times for show. It looked to have only eight medium-sized pills.  _Perfect_. 

A’ma nodded approvingly. “Thank you,” she held out her hand for the bottle, so Dick gave them to her. A moment passed when Dick looked as though he wanted to say something, but was hesitating to do so. “Yes?” A’ma asked him. 

Dick’s smile was almost self-deprecating. “Just know, A’ma, that I understand how you felt-how you feel,” he said. 

A’ma raised an eyebrow, looking slightly worried. “Pardon?” 

Dick hesitated, but said, “We were there when you came back from Nanda Parbat...” he trailed off, not wanting to say anything else. 

A’ma forgot her words. 

“I’m sorry if you felt we invaded your privacy,” he apologized. “I don’t know why we landed there.” 

A’ma nodded stiffly, then audibly swallowed. There was another lingering moment where she didn’t seem to know what to say. “What do you mean...you understand?” 

Dick took a deep breath, then breathed out, “I was under shock. It was Tarantula,” he took another, deeper breath, “she kinda. Knew me...”

A’ma blinked a few times, processing all of this and still staring at the floor. “I...” she trailed off again. “May I hug you?” This time she looked at Dick when she asked this, her forest green eyes wide. Dick’s lips upturned, and he nodded. A’ma slowly embraced him, wrapping her arms around his torso and squeezing it. She was no stranger to hugs while growing up; her mother was more than affectionate, as was her grandparents.

A’ma pulled away after a moment, though, and smiled slightly at him. “Thank you,” she said. She didn’t know if it was for the hug or for sharing the small the piece of information that had opened up her mind, but she didn’t care much. All that mattered was that her grandfather had felt for her—had seen her as more than a victim and attempted to empathize with her. 

Dick nodded. “You’re welcome,” he replied. 

“Let’s head out,” A’ma turned around, leader mode activated and the bottle of pills still in her right hand. 

Bruce, with the piece of technology in his hand, moved to the center of the cave and the group formed a circle as usual. Bruce looked up from the tech, then nodded at A’ma. 

A’ma nodded back. “Ry’an, please hand out the pills,” she ordered. Ry’an rolled his eyes, but complied and gave one to each of the past heroes. “Do  not  swallow them until we get to your proper time,” A’ma continued. “As soon as you swallow it, you will pass out and your memories of the past few days will be gone. Atalaya, Ry’an, Charlie, and I will leave as soon as we wipe the cave footage,” she informed them. 

Everyone nodded. “Any questions?” 

“How did you get here?” Jason asked. 

A’ma furrowed her brows. “Do you mean how did we manufacture another time-traveling device?” She replied. Jason nodded. “Grandma Babs downloaded the entire code onto the Batcomputer, along with the blueprints,” A’ma explained. 

“Was she the one who made us go the different time periods?” Steph questioned, eyes narrowed. 

A’ma smirked conspiratorially. “Let’s go.” Steph groaned, muttering something along the lines of, ‘like grandfather, like daughter.’ A’ma nodded at Bruce, and they left in a bright flash. 

They all landed ungracefully, as usual, but in the correct time. 

The eight people all glanced at each other, sadness evident on their faces, then simultaneously swallowed the pills. 

Before Mar’i and Damian fell into sleep, they could hear Atalaya say, “Buenas noches, Mom and Dad. See you when we get back to our ti...” 

Then everything went to black. 

Charlie immediately launched his body to the cave computers, furiously typing in order to erase the footage of the two groups arriving from seemingly nowhere; he made sure to follow the careful instructions Babs had given him before he was launched into the past. After only a couple of minutes, Charlie turned back to look at the three siblings. “We’re good,” he told them. 

All three of them nodded, then looked at each other. 

Before they could leave in a bright flash, again, Ry’an looked down at the bodies of his family and whispered, “Goodbye...see you soon.” 

* * *

Damian and Mar’i Grayson-Wayne, in 2034, would see their younger selves return back to their respective time and have dinner later that night with their own family. Their whole family would share crazy stories of their work and come together after a long day. 

A’ma would be upset over what her father intended to do for her in the warehouse, but she would thank him for it ten years later. 

Atalaya would joke with her best friend Charlie about how her Grandpa Bruce looked so grumpy even back then, but would take it back when that same grandfather threw a vicious bat glare at her. 

Ry’an would share about how much fun it was to work with Grandma Babs and see his family fight, and would ask his mama if he could ever fight like her. She would reply that he should fight like his own hero. 

Mar’i and Damian would enjoy their dinners and mull over their previous nights before residing back into their shared quarters, once again proving their mutual love for another. 

The next day, life would continue in the Grayson-Wayne household. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Did you like it? 
> 
> I love you all and hope you have an amazing day. All love <3

**Author's Note:**

> This is NOT a sequel to Mollify. You are NOT required to read that in order to understand this, but it is part of the same small universe I have created for myself. However, I do recommend you read Mollify in order to understand some Easter eggs I have in this story that clear up some confusion in that story. 
> 
> I am also on FanFiction.net, incase anyone likes that platform more. I will be posting on BOTH platforms with the same exact chapters. However, my FanFiction.net platform will be able to see it faster than Archive users. Lo siento.


End file.
